


Charmed

by princesscas



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), I'm so sorry, M/M, Now with making out!, don't ask because I don't know, this is a trainwreck I admit it, well. this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26385019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesscas/pseuds/princesscas
Summary: Prince El and his family are persecuted for his so-called legendary powers. Luckily, he knows exactly who to turn to: his friend (more than friend?) Erik, a pirate, who agrees to help them escape. But with Heliodor on their tails, this is hardly the time or place for romance … or so Erik says. And El fully intends to prove him wrong.
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 31





	1. Put A Ring On It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone!
> 
> ANOTHER thing??? yes, I'm starting another work ... before I'm done publishing the other one ...   
> EDIT FROM THE FUTURE, THIS WAS A MISTAKE, BUT ENJOY IT NOW I GUESS
> 
> this is something I've been super excited about! Eris came up with this concept, and she deserves as much credit as I do. the writing is entirely my own, but the idea and lots of the details are hers. this chapter is a prequel of sorts!
> 
> spoilers for Erik's past, and I think that's it???
> 
> rated T because swearing, that's it so far, this may be updated,

“Found you!”

A young boy giggles as he brushes some golden stalks out of a girl’s long black ponytail.

“El, this isn’t fair,” grumbles the girl, who looks to be in double digits, but not quite a teenager yet. “You’re smaller, and it’s easier for you to hide.”

“What if we go over to the coast?” the boy - El - suggests, tapping his foot impatiently against the ground. “There’s a bunch of plants there, right? So you can hide easily over there. It’s not too far.”

The girl bites her lip. “But Hendrik - “

“C’mon, Jade! He won’t miss us, he’s with his sister, and we’ll be back before sunset anyway,” he whines, already tugging on her hand.

Jade rolls her eyes, but she follows him out of the field of gold, brushing off her purple dress. The townspeople chuckle to themselves as the two of them walk by, shaking their heads at their youthfulness. Really, they have the reputation of their kingdoms to uphold, and shouldn’t they be with Hendrik? None of them comment on it, though, content to let the two royals do their own thing. It’s not their problem, after all. Most of them like Hendrik, and they look forward to when he returns home, stealing away all his time, so it’s really their fault.

El and Jade reach the road that leads to the coast in almost no time after they leave the town. Tall cliffs surround the path, and Zwaardsrust’s signature colorful selection of wildflowers dot the grass around them.

El fidgets with the hem of his jacket, the previously fine fabric worn soft beneath his fingers. “It’s my turn, right?”

“Yes. Just go through to the coastal area, and I’ll stay this side of the cliffs until I’m done counting, alright? Then -” Jade pauses to tap El on the nose, and he tries to bat her hands away, but he’s not fast enough to succeed, “- I’ll find you!”

“Or you won’t.”

Jade sticks her tongue out, but she covers her eyes and begins to count out loud without trying to dig up some witty response from her seemingly endless reserves.

El runs as fast as he can, his shoes slapping against the dirt path as he bolts along the shore.

There’s several big rocks he could probably make do with, but they’re just not quite good enough. Jade’s very smart, and a good few years older than he is, so he has to find somewhere good if he wants to last long at all. He scans the landscape. He can’t hear her counting, but she must be close to done by now.

He tucks himself behind a cabin by the water, and he knows she’ll be here soon, so he desperately glances around, trying to find another place to move to while she’s distracted. So what if that’s against their rules? He has to give himself a few advantages if he hopes to outsmart Jade, right?

Close to the end of the pier, he spots a ship flying a jolly roger that’s being loaded with crates of goods and food and treasure and other things that El doesn’t recognize. The cargo is almost gone, but the ship is still at the loading docks.

Perfect.

There’s no way Jade could find him here! There must be a dozen ships at the pier, how would she know which one to search?

El sneaks along the pier (not very sneakily, but there’s not many people there to notice him in the first place) and as the ship’s cargo is being finished, he slips on board.

He hides behind a pile of three crates and hopes that they don’t fall onto his head. That would be unfortunate. He can only imagine the headlines:  _ Dundrasil’s crown prince killed by falling crates! _ His parents are already stressed enough without any tragedy to deal with. Besides, he likes his life overall, and he would rather not get squished. He won’t, anyway, Jade is looking for him, and she’ll probably be here soon. Only another ten minutes or so.

“Ready t’go?” grunts a voice from somewhere in front of El. Maybe on the pier?

“Yep. Close ‘er up, mate.”

El barely has time to process the meaning of the order before he hears the cargo bay being closed, and the last sliver of light from the bright Zwaardsrust spring sun is snatched away.

He frantically pats along the walls, searching for … anything, really. An escape hatch? The door to the cargo bay? For the first time, he regrets not knowing that much about ships. He didn’t exactly foresee that he was going to get trapped in a ship, though. Maybe he won’t hide on any more ships after this.

The floor beneath him rumbles, and the ship comes to life.

El squints through a gap in the wooden boards that make up the walls, and all he can see is water, shimmering bright blue and dancing with the ship’s movement. The waves rush by him, and he gets the sense that he’s too far away from the shore to jump out now, even if he was able to find an exit, which he hasn’t yet. But there has to be some way to get back, right? Jade’s still looking for him … 

El heaves a sigh and slides down the wall, landing with a soft  _ thump _ on the floor. He crosses his arms and rests his chin on his knees, groaning in frustration and resignment.

“Who’s there?” a sharp voice snaps.

El cowers back against the wall in fear. “Please don’t hurt me! I’m just a kid!”

“Oh,” the voice says, their tone much more flat and almost defeated-sounding. “I’m sorry. Did they take you too? Well, there’s not much you can do about that, I guess.”

“I- I didn’t mean to leave,” sniffs El. “I want to go home … Jade’s waiting for me … “

The owner of the voice steps forward, and a thin shaft of light falls across their face. He’s pale, with brilliant blue eyes and equally brilliant blue hair that El’s never seen anything like before. His gaze is searching as he takes in El’s own figure, still seated at the corner of the wall.

“You got anywhere to go, wheathead?” he asks, his lips quirking up into a smirk.

“Hey!” El’s hand defensively shoots up to his hair, twisting one of the strands around his finger. “It’s not that blonde, the sun just makes it that color. And my name’s El.”

“Okay,  _ El _ , you still didn’t answer my question.”

The boy offers his hand, and El takes it, tugging himself to his feet. The blue-haired boy is older than him, but younger than Jade, guessing by his height. His eyes catch the light that finds its way in, and they shimmer slightly, reminding El of the crest of a wave dancing along the sea before it breaks against the shore.

“I do. I have to get back to Zwaardsrust, that’s all. Jade can take me back home from there.”

“Who’s Jade?” the boy asks, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“My sister? Kind of? We see each other all the time. She’s the princess of Heliodor. Her mum passed before I was born, but my mum is like her aunt, and she comes over a lot.”

He snorts. “Like you’d be hanging out with the Princess of Heliodor. Royals are damn selective.”

“Well, I am,” insists El, sticking his chin out. Their hands are still clasped together, and he’s close enough that El could pull himself into his arms with minimal effort. Their position would barely be changed.

“ _ Right. _ Well, I can still help you get back, I guess. Even if you are a  _ liar, _ ” he teases, twirling one of El’s blonde locks of hair in his hand easily.

“I’m not lying! She’s really the princess. Crown princess, too,” El adds proudly, even though it’s not really an achievement that Jade has no siblings. Aside from himself, of course, but he has his own kingdom to manage when he’s older.

The boy rolls his eyes. “Uh huh.”

“What’s your name? You never told me.”

“Erik,” he says softly after a slight pause, but it’s too slight to make El think he’s lying.

El leans into his touch, allowing him to keep his hands in El’s hair. He really shouldn’t be doing that, but for some reason he trusts him. Plus El’s always liked it when people mess with his hair. Especially Erik, for some reason … 

What is he even  _ doing? _

The moment he thinks it, Erik’s hands shoot out of his hair, and he clasps them behind his back, out of El’s reach. “We don’t have all day. You’ve gotta get back to your sister, right?”

El pouts, but he nods in agreement.

“Well, come on, then.”

“Wait, there’s nowhere to go,” El protests, motioning at the space around them. There’s only crates and the occasional crack in the beams where some light can come in. He knows there’s a door somewhere too, but he doesn’t know where, and they’re guaranteed to be too far away from the shore by now to swim.

“Uh, what about up the stairs?” Erik’s tone is completely flat as he points his thumb behind him towards a shadow-blanketed stairway El hadn’t noticed before. That must be where Erik had come from originally.

“Aren’t there people up there, though? They’ll notice us.”

“Nope. They won’t. You think I can’t work my way around them? It’s not that hard,” he scoffs, running a hand through his cropped blue hair. It springs back into spikes as soon as his hand drops back down to his side. He steps up onto one of the higher stairs, and their height difference becomes even more exaggerated. “Follow me and you’ll be fine. Most of them are gonna be drinking right now anyway.”

El sucks in a breath. “If you’re sure about this, then … I trust you.”

Erik throws open the door.

The sunlight reflecting off the surrounding water is blinding, but once El’s eyes adjust, he has only one thought.

Goddess, Erik is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

There’s no room for any doubt as the beautiful boy in question grabs onto his hand and drags him off to their right, to the side of the ship. He leads him to the side of the main deck, so that they’re almost level with the water, but they aren’t visible from the navigator’s room.

“We’re not that far from Zwaardsrust, I think,” mumbles Erik, half to himself. He counts under his breath in some language El has never heard before, and he only knows it’s counting because he subconsciously ticks off the numbers on his fingers as he goes. “It shouldn’t take you that long to get back.”

He starts to tug something from the wall, and El holds the other end steady. It comes loose without too much protest after Erik frees it from its rope restraints.

A lifeboat.

El stares at the empty spot on the wall where it used to be. “Won’t they ask why one’s gone?”

Erik shrugs. “I don’t care,” he says simply. “Not like they can do anything about it. They wouldn’t kill me, not unless I do something really stupid. And this isn’t so bad.”

“Do they hurt you?”

Erik huffs out a dry laugh, and El gets the impression that he’s asked the wrong question, but he can’t work out what the right one was. “Yeah. It’s fine, though. S’long as they don’t hurt Mia, I don’t care. You get used to it after a while.”

“Mia?”

“My little sister. She’s four.”

“Do you want to come with me?”

Erik stares blankly at him.

“Um. You could escape, right? Then you wouldn’t be hurt anymore. I think you might like it in Dundrasil. Jade likes kids, and she could help with your sister. It must be hard to raise her on your own, right?”

He sighs. “I can’t just leave. They’ll find me, I know they will. People don’t want to adopt kids like us anyway.” He kicks his boot against the deck, scowling when the tip comes back slightly wet with seawater.

El’s heart breaks for him, right then, even as they lower the boat into the water.

“Are you sure?” he asks softly, taking both of Erik’s hands in his.

“I’m sure,” replies Erik near instantly, but El notices the way he purses his lips after he says it, like he’s actually considering changing his mind. His eyes glitter with sadness, the kind that lingers long after the cause of it is gone.

“When I grow up, I’ll make you my wife,” El declares. He presses his lips to the back of Erik’s left hand, and Erik finally smiles again. Even though it’s wry and more than a little bit sarcastic, at least he’s not sad anymore.

He fiddles with the clasp of the thin gold bracelet at his wrist, and when it’s finally free he slips it around Erik’s hand, closing the two loose ends together. He rotates the bracelet until the round charm at the center faces up again, and it fits so perfectly on Erik that El wonders if it wasn’t meant for him after all.

“What do you think?”

A soft smirk tugs at the corners of Erik’s mouth. “I like it. Classy.”

El rolls his eyes. “I meant about marrying me,” he says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He tries his best to pretend that his heart isn’t beating faster than the ship is moving, faster than the wind is blowing, because Erik is just so beautiful, and his eyes have this little sparkle when he’s amused. All he knows is that when Erik’s sad, he’s sad too, and he never wants the blue-haired boy in front of him to be unhappy again.

“Nice meeting you, El.”

And with that, he lets go.

***

“El! Where have you been? What happened? I was so worried, I thought I’d lost you, I thought Hendrik and Jasper were going to be so disappointed in me - “

“I’m okay,” El interrupts. “And they won’t be, we don’t have to tell them.”

Jade furiously swipes some tears away from her purple eyes as they set back along the path to the main town area, away from the beach. His shoes are still wet, and he has no idea if they’ll dry out or not. That’s not really a problem for him, though. He can afford to lose a pair of shoes, he’s got way too many, and it’s not like he can’t just buy more. The tricky part is going to be explaining about the bracelet. Maybe he could just say he lost it.

“I hid on a ship, but then it started moving … “ El admits.

“Why did you think that was a good idea? You could have died. Or been held hostage.”

“I know … I just wanted to find a good hiding place. You always find me really quickly, and I thought you wouldn’t search on the ships.” El stares at the grass beneath his feet for a moment. Maybe he’s just not smart yet. Maybe he has to get older for that to happen. Once he’s Jade’s age, something will just magically click. Of course, Jade will be a lot older then, and he’ll have even more to catch up with. He should probably get a friend his age.

“How did you get back, then? Did you swim all that way?”

“Oh! This boy with blue hair helped me. He was so beautiful … “ El sighs, the image of Erik’s eyes shimmering in his mind. When he looks around again, there’s only grass and flowers and the distant wheat fields. Even the sky is stained with the colors of sunset instead of the perfect blue of Erik’s features.

“Is that so? Did you tell him you think so?”

“No, I don’t think I did … but I promised to marry him!” he declares proudly, beaming up at her. She smiles and rolls her eyes at him, huffing out a soft half-laugh through her nose as she gently shakes her head.

“Of course you did,” mutters Jade. “How will you find him again?”

“I don’t know … but if I see him again I’ll know it’s him. And I know his name! And his sister's name!” Forgetting that they’re still walking on uneven terrain, El trips on a rock and falls flat on his face in his excitement.

“Good luck,” offers Jade as she helps him up, and although her smile is skeptical, El can tell that she really means it.

True to their word, they don’t tell Hendrik and Jasper about El’s … adventure. It’s their little secret. Or really, it’s El’s little secret. He’s the only one who knows Erik’s name, and he’s the only one who knows Erik has his bracelet. It’s not easy to get your hands on a piece of jewelry with Dundrasil’s crest on it. Almost impossible, actually. Erik’s the only person in Erdrea who isn’t in the royal family who’s ever been given one.

He isn’t in the royal family  _ yet, _ El reminds himself.

That’ll have to change someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and with this, we embark on a journey that has led me into many many mornings of sleep deprivation! and I'm not anywhere close to done yet! *insert Hide The Pain Harold here*
> 
> I'm sorry. just ... I'm sorry.
> 
> the updates for this one might get a little sporadic because I impulse posted and I am bad at time management, but I'm aiming for one per week! this does conflict with my other WIP a bit but I'll try my best to keep 'em both updated! wish me luck ...


	2. A Path To Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey and welcome back
> 
> quick pre reading note: El is thirteen now! nice! and Erik is sixteen ... 
> 
> normal people: noooo you can't have an age gap like that  
> me: haha canon ages go brrrrrr
> 
> so with that in mind here you go. El is a very weird teenageer.

It’s just after sunrise, and the crown prince of Dundrasil is at the docks of the Dundrasilian lowlands, surveying the various ships docked there. Nobody takes much notice of him, though, because he’s wearing commoner’s clothes and he isn’t very remarkable on his own.

They aren’t all that different from those in Zwaardsrust that he’d accidentally boarded a Viking ship at. The memory isn’t really a good one, so he usually pretends it doesn’t exist. But this situation is too similar to ignore. Except now instead of hiding from Jade, he’s hiding from his own guards. Appointed for his protection.

The other difference is that it’s not a game anymore.

El’s been doing this for the last four years. Running away. He’s never succeeded, not truly, he’s only ever gotten away for a few days, at most a week. That was almost a year ago. But that was then. He’s been completely tame for the last year, and no matter how much he wanted to run, he forced himself to stay, all for this moment.

Eleanor would be so disappointed if she knew how long he’d been plotting this particular escape. If she’d also be amused, well, she didn’t need to admit it.

El _ had _ promised himself that he wouldn’t do any more stowing away on ships … but this is different. This time, he doesn’t really care if he gets captured, as long as he’s got a few moments to himself. The brightest sparks burn out the fastest and all that, but he’d rather have a short burst of freedom than nothing.

It’s terribly familiar: the open cargo loading, the crates, the way he slips between the cracks and hides behind a stack of boxes. El tries not to think about that incident.

The darkness of the belowdecks area isn’t so foreign to him anymore, but it still makes him a little bit nervous. Especially as he hears the soft, threatening click of boots against the floor outside.

Already? Damn. Just his luck.

El doesn’t bother to hide. He doesn’t have any reason to. What does he care if some captain finds him?

He sees the door open and close, and then hears the rhythmic tapping of heels on the wooden floor again. They’re quiet and soft, barely audible. If he hadn’t noticed the door, he might not know anyone else was here at all. They must be pretty good.

El leans against the wall casually, waiting to be discovered.

Within the blink of an eye, the sharp, slightly curved blade of a dagger is at his throat. Another moment, and the holder’s face follows into his vision. Stunningly blue eyes, deeper in color than any jewels, and rivaling even the ocean itself.

El gasps, the blade leaving a thin mark on his neck.

Within moments, the knife clatters to the ground. A familiar thin gold bracelet glints on the former holder’s wrist. His left wrist.

“What the hell are you doing here,” Erik breathes.

He’s so close that El can feel the brush of his breath on his cheek.

El leans up and kisses him in response.

He has no idea why he does it. He’s kissed his fair share of people before, at masked parties or around the city or platonically in Jade’s case, but none of that compares to the electrifying feel of Erik’s mouth on his. It sends thrills of static shooting down his spine, leaving him powerless to do anything but rely on the wall for support and channel all of his energy into trying to remain upright.

“This isn’t how this was supposed to go,” Erik mumbles under his breath. “If you weren’t so damn pretty you wouldn’t have gotten away with that, y’know.”

In spite of his situation, El beams. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Well, yeah.” Erik’s fingertips trail across his chin, and he tilts El’s face up to look him in the eyes. The swirling, captivating, vibrant blue eyes dancing with amusement and lost shafts of sunlight. “And I know who you are. What’s a cute little prince like you doing on my ship?”

“Escaping.”

“From what? The unbearable riches of your life?” he scoffs, his nose scrunching.

“No, actually. From my guards. They don’t like it when I go on adventures without them.”

Erik snorts. “That’s what you think this is? An adventure? I guess you’re not wrong. Kinda fun being a pirate.”

El’s eyes widen. “You’re a pirate?”

“Uh, yeah. What did you think?”

“Can I come with you? I really want this,” El pleads, his eyes rounding and filling with a hint of sadness.

If Erik said no … that would spell the end of his no-escaping streak. It wouldn’t be another year until he got another chance this good. Not to mention that an alarmingly large part of him thinks Erik is devastatingly handsome.

“You know what? Sure. Just don't get in our way. And I better be getting some kind of reward when you’re king, mm-kay?” Erik smirks, and El finds himself battling the desire to kiss him again. Based on Erik’s reaction, that’s going to become a problem fast. But Erik made an exception for him, didn’t he … ?

“Thank you!” El beams, and before the logical part of his brain can kick in, he throws his arms around him. Erik hesitates, but after a moment, he returns the gesture, ruffling El’s hair.

“Guess I can’t call you wheathead anymore.” Erik lightly tugs on the lock of shoulder-length brown hair in his hand. “Shame. It suited you.” He lets El’s hair fall out of his grasp, and it softly lands back with the rest of its kind, lying flat. Boring. If only he had more interesting hair, like Erik’s characteristic messy blue spikes.

“Will you marry me?” El blurts, gently taking one of Erik’s hands in each of his.

Erik stares at him blankly. He raises an eyebrow.

El holds his breath.

“Get your hands off my brother!”

El releases his hands, and his eyes widen as he holds them up in a gesture of innocence.

Standing in the doorway is a girl who looks maybe eleven, with a furious fiery expression and a thick sea-blue braid, the shade of which is very familiar. That along with the word ‘brother’ is a dead giveaway as to who she is.

Maybe his vivid memory would finally come in handy.

“Mia?” El asks softly, and the single word makes her stiffen. She freezes in place, her arms still crossed at her chest, her eyes caught in the blank space between fight and flight. It's almost like she’s some kind of scared wild animal. Strange, since El’s really the one that’s caught, pinned against the wall by a pirate.

To his surprise, she scowls, but not at him.

“I told you, I don’t want you bringing any more gold diggers around. This is what I’m talking about!” she yells at Erik, swinging a small, round, and decidedly dangerous-looking thing from out of a sheath at her hip and pointing it threateningly in El’s direction.

“Calm down, Mia.” Erik drags El over towards her, which seems like just about the worst idea possible, but she reluctantly puts away her weapon with nothing more than a scowl. “This is El. He’s not my boyfriend, alright?”

“Then what’s your deal?” Mia frowns slightly at El, almost like she thinks something is off with him. Or - more like something is off with everyone else, and El is the only one who doesn’t have anything wrong with him. He’s not used to that. Usually he’s the one people point out in a room. He’s never been normal before, and he’s not sure he likes it.

Erik opens his mouth, but El interrupts with, “Nothing, I’m just here,” before he can say anything.

“Just here, huh?” She squints at him, shakes her head, and then shoves back his sleeve, pointing at his bracelet with far more accusation than El thinks is necessary. “Sure you aren’t here for a reason?”

“You really don’t miss anything, huh, kid?” Erik chuckles.

Beaming with pride, she takes a moment to dramatically sweep her bangs out of her eyes before tilting her head at El in appraisal. Her tongue pokes out from between her teeth as she studies him. “Dundrasil, right? Doesn’t want to go back anytime soon. He’s left someone behind, but he doesn’t care enough to do it.”

“I’m right here,” El protests, even as he ticks off each of her responses as correct.

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have told us that, would you?” argues Erik, shrugging. El catches a flash of gold lost somewhere within Erik’s hair, and he wonders if he would look good with earrings. His parents never really let him try it, but … if he’s already running away … “Besides, I got all that already. She’s not the only one with good observational skills, y’know.”

El draws in a sharp breath, trying and probably failing to pretend that this doesn’t unnerve and intrigue him. He can’t tell which one is more surprising. Probably a bad sign.

Then again, he’s never really cared, and why should he start now?

“One more thing,” Mia continues, the slightest trace of a smirk on her lips. “He’s also smitten with you. Pretty bad. I thought you might have mentioned that part.”

To El’s surprise, and probably Mia’s too judging by her expression, Erik flushes.

“She’s right,” El adds nonchalantly, and Erik’s eyebrows fly into his matching sea-blue hair. “I made that pretty obvious, didn’t I?” he sighs, and Mia nods sympathetically.

Erik purses his lips. “Uh, that’s nice, I guess.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?” Mia asks incredulously, shooting Erik a very pointed look that El finds completely indecipherable, but that Erik clearly understands, because he gives a brief warning look. Strange. That isn’t what El had expected at all. Actually, pretty much the exact opposite. Why won’t Erik say anything else? Is he not okay with that? But then wouldn’t he have said something earlier, when -

“I’m _ sixteen _ ,” Erik protests, and Mia rolls her eyes, silently arguing back in some kind of debate that El can’t process. “And no. Don’t even think about it.”

“Hey, I know  _ you’re _ thinking about it. Hypocrite,” she mutters, her eyes cutting to the side and firing off a wave of skepticism.

“Whatever. And for the record, I was not thinking about it.”

Fumbling with the sheath, Erik slips the knife he’d had at El’s throat moments before out of its casing, frowning slightly at the blade, and suddenly El feels bad that he’s the reason it’s damaged. He was so distracting that Erik dropped it.

“If you’re planning on staying for a while, there’s a few people you should meet.” Erik stops on about the third step, and again El gets faint flashbacks to the ship where they had first met. “C’mon, they’re nice. I promise. But if you try to hurt me, they’ll probably kill you,” he says, deadpan.

“Not if I do first!” Mia declares, her voice a little too proud for El to feel completely safe.

“You coming? Or are you gonna go back to your castle or whatever?”

“I’m coming,” replies El instantaneously.

He almost thinks about how scared Jade will be, and how his parents will add him to the list of things to be worried about, and how Jasper might get fired, or, worse still, sent to search for him, and how his people might even mourn him like he’s dead.

Almost.

It takes only a few seconds to follow Erik up the stairs as Mia skips ahead of them, and in those few seconds, he doesn’t spare a single thought for anything he’s leaving behind.

Erik grabs him by the wrist, and tugs him up another set of stairs behind them. When they reach the top, El notices a single figure standing alone at the edge of the railing, gazing up at the sky.

“Hey,” greets Erik to the mystery figure. “This is El. Found him in the cargo bay. Feel free to assert your dominance over him.”

“I can  _ hear _ you, you know,” El hisses, and then offers his hand, like he’s seen countless ambassadors do. In a way, he is an ambassador right now. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” they say, turning around to reveal bloodred wings unfurling behind them, along with clawed feet and a thin black tail. Silky black hair cascades down their shoulders, and their eyes are a sharp green, the only hint of color that isn’t red or black on their entire body.

One of El’s eyebrows raises slightly.

“Hi. I’m Zoe,” they say, tilting their head slightly to the side. “And I’m a succubat. Yep. Deal with it. Before you ask, yes, I drink blood, and no, I am not going to bite you in your sleep.”

“She’ll do that while you’re awake,” Erik adds, flashing a sliver of a wolfish grin.

“Shut up. Don’t let him scare you. He’s a big softie..” Zoe winks in El’s direction, and for some reason he can’t identify, her words cause him to start blushing furiously.

Erik rolls his eyes.

Zoe’s emerald green eyes go wide, and she gestures in the vague direction of El’s hand, now falling back to his side. “Is that - Erik, isn’t that the same as your bracelet?”

El beams. “Yes! How’d you know?” He holds his wrist out, pulling his sleeve back slightly to reveal the silver bracelet. Zoe stares at it, puzzled.

“He wears it all the time. Never takes it off,” she replies, her eyes not leaving the round charm at the center. “I thought you said it was one of a kind? Made for the royal family of Dundrasil or something like that?”

“Well, it is.” El tugs his hand back, neatly covering the silver back up.

She stares, and her eyes run up and down El, and then back again. Another assessment. “For shit’s sake. Why’d you have to pick a prince? Holding him for ransom or something?” Her eyes narrow, and she glares at Erik. “I thought I told you, no traumatizing people for money. It’s not worth it.”

“I’m here by choice,” El interrupts, drawing himself a little bit taller.

Zoe blinks in surprise, but the expression fades so quickly that El isn’t completely sure if it was there at all. “In that case, don’t let me catch you regretting your decision!” she declares, a somewhat mischievous smile lighting up her features. “Or else Erik’s going to be awfully sad.”

El thinks over her words for the next several days, and then the next several months, and eventually the next several years, but he never does figure out what that particular line means.

***

“So I’m up on deck, minding my own business, and I hear something from the cargo bay. I go in, and I pull my knife on him, and then he just looks at me like - “

El gives his best impression of the shocked and pleading look he’d shot Erik when they had seen each other for the first (well, second) time, in the instant just after the knife had hit the ground. Mia snorts and rolls her eyes at him, but she’s smiling. It’s not exactly a secret that she has a certain fondness for El, despite her initial reaction.

“Of all the things I was expecting, runaway crown princes weren’t high on my list.” Erik throws his arm across El’s shoulders, drawing him in a little bit closer, just enough that it makes his heart skip a beat. He chooses to ignore that and what it could mean, despite knowing that it’s a losing battle.

“I have guards on me all the time. Can you blame me for wanting some time to myself?”

Erik sips from the glass in his left hand, the one not currently draped around his shoulders, and  _ that _ has potential to become a problem, if the sudden stutter of his breath is anything to go by. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just surprised. It wasn’t a bad thing.”

“Oh. Thanks, I think.”

“Yeah, yeah, you two are sweet and whatever. Get on with the story,” Mia whines, fidgeting with her necklace impatiently.

“Uh. You want to go?” Erik glances away awkwardly, raising the glass to his lips again.

“Not really,” admits El, “but I’ll do it anyway.” He toys with a lock of his own hair, stalling, but at a glare from Mia, he starts up again. “I, um, kissed him?”

Zoe’s green eyes narrow, but she doesn’t look altogether that surprised. El inwardly groans. By this point, Mia has probably told them all that he’s into Erik anyway. No way is his secret safe with her.

“It gets better,” Mia says, her tone somehow both warning and gleeful.

El grimaces. “I … may have asked him to marry me.”

Michelle giggles, flipping yet another runaway lock of her vibrant pink hair over her shoulder. “Oh! That’s so sweet! But if so, does that mean he told you n-” she stops abruptly, her smile slipping a tiny bit. “Does that mean he declined?” she finishes. Her usual bright smile returns as soon as the words have faded. Her tendency to rhyme is strange, but her desire to suppress them is even stranger.

“And, uh, why’d you do that in the first place? You’d just met and all,” Kai adds.

“Well, we had met before,” El explains, to general skepticism. Except for Healijah. Something about the little blue healslime with his seemingly unthreatening soft yellow tentacles makes El uneasy. He’s definitely not normal, but nobody on this crew seems to be normal. Zoe’s a succubat. Michelle is obviously a little strange, what with her frequent ‘episodes’, whatever those are. Mia’s far too intelligent and skilled a fighter for her age. Erik … well. Maybe Kai is normal. “About - hmm - seven years ago? It’s a long story, but I promised to marry him then.”

“You were betrothed. To the crown prince of Dundrasil. And you didn’t tell me.” Mia glares at Erik without any kind of filter to soften her expression, and El is secretly glad that she likes him too much to do that to him.

“Not  _ betrothed _ . You make it sound weird. I didn’t even believe him,” Erik protests. “‘Course, Mia walked in before I could say no.”

“Or yes,” Zoe mutters. Her high-pitched tones carry across the entire table, and everyone hears.

“Yep. I said no for him. Maybe I shouldn’t have. You’re not half bad, you know, and … I wouldn’t mind becoming a princess,” Mia says shamelessly, shrugging.

“The real question is, how did you both remember each other?” Kai points out. “Seven years, that’s kind of a long time.”

Neither El nor Erik respond to that, and Mia gives a fake little cough that might be concealing a snort of laughter.

“We’re all a little slurpspicious of newcomers, but you’re not new, are you?” Healijah asks, and the question sends shivers down El’s spine that he can’t identify the reason for. “Even if it was a while agoo that you met.”

“ _ Please,  _ Lijah, can you  _ stop _ with the slime puns,” Erik groans, shaking his head.

Healijah frowns slightly, his eyes widening into what might be a pout. “I try to stop, but they’re just goo much fun! I can’t resist. Sorry. I’ll try to keep the sliming to a minimum.”

“Are you really a healslime?” El asks softly, staring at Healijah.

He raises two tentacles in an imitation of a shrug. It’s definitely odd, but his message is clear. “Are you really a gooman? I’m whatever I feel like being.”

“Yes, precisely,” Michelle declares, smiling warmly as she pushes her pink hair back behind her shoulders again. “What we’re trying to say is, we’d love to have you! Welcome aboard. We’ll have you for as long as you’ll stay.”

Everyone around the table raises their glasses, and El can’t help himself. He beams at them all. Mia, Michelle, Kai, Zoe, even the weird being that might be a healslime. And Erik. Especially Erik.

“I think you’ll fit in alright,” Erik says softly, and he clinks his own glass against El’s.

***

At the same time of night, El’s guards return to the palace empty-handed. The report is strange. None of his clothing is gone, none of his weapons are gone, but all of his money and valuable possessions are missing. There are no signs of struggle in his room, or of anything at all. They figure that he’d be a fool to run away weaponless, so he must have been kidnapped. None of them bother to check with shopkeepers about the purchase of any broadswords recently.

Everyone in the vicinity of the throne room hears the whispers. Neither King Irwin nor Queen Eleanor come to dinner that night. There’s an announcement in the morning, about the missing royal, and the reward for finding him.

And with this, the search for the crown prince and his so-called captors begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eris and I have concocted the ideal crew for pirate Erik and this is it (there will be a few more people joining later but these are the main people)! also Eris gets credit for Zoe, who was actually one of the selling points for me on this story.
> 
> thanks for waiting on the update, I've had Quite A Day in between juggling long term assignments, attempting to do group work, listening to EDM, trying to join multimedia club ... stuff. anyway! I'm here now, so take it while it's hot!
> 
> I asked my high school chat "what is the name of god" and the response I got was "chris" so just a PSA to everyone on here, god is named chris!


	3. Pointless Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how do I even describe this chapter. anyway, it's the last one set in the previous times, so next chapter we'll be heading off into the Actual Timeline! heh. I'm a mess.
> 
> *slam dunks this into the void* fuckin take it already

“Will you marry me?”

“Good afternoon to you too, El,” replies Erik, wearing a skeptical and mildly amused look. A slight smirk tugs at the left corner of his mouth, and the same eyebrow raises to match.

“Worth a try,” El mumbles, grinning back despite the less than positive response to his inquiry. It wasn’t a very realistic question anyway. Erik’s made it pretty clear that he doesn’t return El’s feelings, or at least doesn’t want to act on them. And that’s fine, but El still likes to remind him that he does.

It’s not the best method, perhaps, but neither is falling for a pirate.

His parents are going to be so disappointed when he inevitably comes home and can’t stop thinking about Erik. Because deep down, El knows that this can’t last.

News of the hunt for the crown prince has reached even their ship, and eventually El is going to give in. He couldn’t risk getting Erik and his crew into trouble, not over this, when he had been the one to initiate it anyway. Not that they would believe that in the first place. Everyone in his entire damn kingdom knew how soft his heart was.

“You doing anything this evening?” Erik asks, his tone too casual, too light, to be real. Not to mention the hand shooting into his hair. A giveaway. El knows his tells. Maybe that’s just because he’s observed a little more than he should.

“No, why? Do you have any plans?” El replies, trying to keep the hopeful note in his voice to a minimum.

Erik swallows. “I was gonna go into town for the night. Have some drinks, y’know. Lonalulu doesn’t have any drinking laws. I, uh, I thought you might want to come with me. Since Shell and Kai are going to Saikiki Beach … ah, fuck, I’m terrible at this,” he mutters, his cheeks flushing a shade darker.

“That’s nice of you, but someone has to look after Mia, right? I thought you weren’t okay with her drinking yet.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to - nevermind. I’m sure Zoe will come with me.” He turns sharply, starting to speedwalk in the opposite direction, but El stops him, his grip on Erik’s shoulder light, but just enough to prevent him from going any further. Erik’s breath catches, and he turns to face El slowly, his confident appearance shaken for the first time.

“Erik,” he whispers desperately, and at his name, Erik scrunches his eyes closed, like he’s trying to shut him out. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?” he asks as gently as he can.

Erik bites his lip. “No,” he says, but the hesitation makes El doubt the truthfulness of his answer. He doesn’t ask about whatever it is that Erik’s hiding any more, though. It’s not really his business, is it?

***

“Hey.” Zoe motions over a server. She pulls out a chair, flips it around, and leans her arms on the front, flaring her wings out around where the back of the chair should have been. Their deep red color is stained vaguely yellow by the sunset, resulting in a shade of coral, more orange than pink.

“Mai tai,” Erik grumbles reluctantly, raking a hand through his hair and refusing to make eye contact with the server.

From his peripheral vision, Erik makes out a nod. “And for you?” they ask as soon as their pen has stopped scratching across the little notepad in their hand.

She tilts her head mischievously, rummaging through the satchel draped over her chair. “Can you get me … a hibiscus sour, but with a float of this on top?  _ All  _ of it,” she warns, handing over a small metal flask.

Their server nods and leaves with the flask. Erik pities whoever has to open it.

“Did you really have to do that?”

“Did  _ you _ really have to sound so unenthusiastic? You were all sad about something. Shouldn’t you be happy? You finally have a night off. If you’re worried about the ship, don’t be. Mia’s more than a match for anyone.”

“It’s not that,” he mutters, staring down at the table underneath him. He buries his head in his hands and pulls his hair until it hurts and makes him grimace.

“Don’t tell me you’re brooding,” she says darkly. “No drinking while you’re brooding. What’s on your mind?”

“None of your business.”

A glass clinks down against the table, and Erik reaches out for it, but Zoe snatches both drinks before he can make a move. He shoots her a half-hearted glare, but it does nothing. He knew it wouldn’t, but one of these days his usual methods are probably going to work on her. A third, slightly different  _ click _ sounds against the table, and Zoe takes back her flask without a trace of emotion, grateful or otherwise. The server practically sprints away from their table once she’s taken it, and Erik doesn’t blame them.

“Let me guess. It’s El. If you don’t want to marry him, you can just  _ tell _ him,” she says, pushing his drink back across the table. He takes it with a curt nod. “And you don’t have to feel bad about it. It’s that simple.”

Erik takes a long, drawn-out sip of his mai tai through the two bamboo straws provided in the hope that it will help to convince him that he has it in himself to lie to Zoe. He doesn’t. Convenient.

“I don’t want to say no,” he mumbles, burying his face in his hands. “That’s the problem. I can’t say yes because he’s the prince of Dundrasil, and I’m a pirate, and he’s thirteen and has no idea what he’s talking about. I can’t say no because it’ll hurt him. And I don’t want to say no. What the fuck. Why can’t I just say no? I don’t want to marry him.”

Zoe snorts. “You do. And I thought you were just trying to be nice. Oh, this is  _ excellent, _ it’s all forbidden and frowned upon - “

“Wait, wait, wait,” Erik interrupts, and she guiltily cuts off the beginnings of her rambling with her odd blood-floated hibiscus drink. “I told you, I don’t want to marry him. Even if I did, I couldn’t. It’s not like I can leave you behind.”

“But El’s already said  _ fuck you _ to Dundrasil, can’t he just stay with us?” she whines, her eyes gleaming. “And you know you want him to stay. It can just be unofficial, and - “

“No.” He lifts his head off the table, forcing his gaze to meet her eyes despite the symphony of voices in his head whispering for him to quit now, while he has the upper hand, and for some reason they all sound like Zoe herself. “I’m not going to let him stay, either. As soon as we get to the next big port town, I’m letting him go. We can take a shortcut through Zwaardsrust if we keep going east, right? I can bring him to Gondolia.”

Her jaw drops. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m serious. He has to go do prince stuff, right?”

“None of that is as important as  _ you! _ ” Zoe yells, slapping her claw down against the table and causing a tiny bit of his mai tai to splash out of the glass, and he falls silent. “Do you even realize how much he wants to stay? He finally got up the courage to leave behind his old life, and you’re just going to throw him right back into it? You just told me you love him. Can’t you see? For fuck’s sake, you’re an idiot.”

“I don’t love him,” Erik protests, and he chooses to ignore any parts of him that say otherwise. “I know I’m an idiot, but can we at least let him get away before something bad happens?”

“He doesn’t  _ want _ to get away,” Zoe argues, but by the time she’s done with her drink, Erik has won.

For the first time ever, he feels like maybe he should have let her claim a victory.

***

“Okay.” Mia slaps both of her hands down on the wooden desk beneath her. It’s technically Erik’s, but she has seemingly decided that his usual rules don’t apply when El’s looking after her. “Look, I get that you’re into my brother, but what’s with all the proposals? Y’know, if he says no once, his answer’s probably not gonna change within a week.”

El shoots her a sad smile, taking a seat carefully in the seat across from the younger blue-haired sibling. “That’s the point. He’s never actually said no to me. He just changes the subject or leaves or pretends he didn’t hear me … is that worse?”

“No,” she huffs, glaring at the wood pattern of the table with frightening intensity. “No, that’s good, I think. But he told me that he refused. Does he just feel guilty … ?” she muses to herself.

“I know you don’t really want me to like him, but I can’t help it. He’s just so beautiful,” El sighs, eyes drifting closed as Erik’s jewel-bright eyes flash across his mind. Even now the image is nothing more than an azure glimmer, a splash of color reminiscent of the late-morning sky, when Mia’s braid starts to fade into the sea and the shades become near indistinguishable from each other, but it’s still distinctly  _ Erik _ .

“Stooop,” groans Mia. “Ugh! You’re disgusting. I can’t see how someone like you is capable of falling for someone as stupid as my brother. It’s ridiculous.”

“Believe me, I know,” El mutters. He lets his head rest against the table. The wood is cool to the touch.

Propping her feet up on Erik’s polished desk, Mia gives him a measuring stare. The moment at which she makes her verdict is clear, but El can’t tell what she’s decided on. She lets her lips part, and she almost says something. It takes her three tries before she manages to get it out. “I’m not opposed to the idea of you and Erik,” she says reluctantly, the words almost forced, but El can tell that they’re genuine.

“Really?” he asks, raising his eyebrows slightly.

“I regret saying that already,” Mia grumbles, falling right back into her usual self. “But … if you’ll make him happy, and you won’t do anything in front of me, then that’s fine. I know he kinda likes you too. Why else would he not say no to you? Last I checked he doesn’t have a conscience.”

El sucks in a breath. “He- he what?”

“He doesn’t have a conscience.”

“Not that part,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes.

“He likes you back, dumbass.” She playfully shoves him at the shoulder. “Come on, don’t tell me you didn’t know. He’s not subtle. Uh, what about the whole touching thing?”

El flushes a vibrant shade of scarlet at those words, and she growls in irritation. “Not like that. He puts his arm around you and stuff. And he says you’re cute.”

“He’s just teasing me … “ El protests weakly.

“You - “ Mia shoves her pointer finger into his chest, glaring at him, her feet planted on the ground again. Her shoes have left a small scuff on the table’s immaculately polished surface. “ - are the densest person I’ve ever met. If he’s teasing you, doesn't that mean he likes your reactions? Fuck, don’t make me explain to you what flirting is. I barely know.”

“You really think he - feels the same way?”

“I wouldn’t go  _ that _ far. Let’s just say he might have a thing for you. That’s it.” Mia sticks out her tongue, her nose scrunching in distaste. “So stupid. You’re both idiots.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” El replies neutrally, but he’s only half present. The other half of him is occupied replaying the memory of his conversation with the pirate captain just a few hours earlier. The pirate captain that apparently might have a thing for him. But that can’t be right. What made him suddenly trust Mia anyway? All she was doing was telling him what he wanted to hear. But she didn’t seem to want anything for her efforts … 

“Maybe stop the proposals. I don’t think those are going to work on him. Nice try, though,” she snickers. “Real classy of you, asking a sixteen-year-old pirate to marry you. The prince of Dundrasil. It’s almost like you  _ want _ to disrespect other royalty.”

“I do,” he admits, his tone earnest, and Mia cackles with laughter as he steps out of the room and starts through the hallway and out onto the deck. The stars are bright and clear here, not anything like they are in Dundrasil City. He’s seen it in planetariums and models before, but none of them compare.

“Hey,” a familiar voice calls from his left, and El turns to be met with Erik’s moonlit figure. He glows with pale light that reflects off his eyes like glass, shimmering slightly in the darkness. “Hope Mia didn’t give you too much trouble.” He moves near silently in the night, barely causing a ripple, and all of a sudden Erik is by his side. “You didn’t miss much,” he murmurs softly, his lips a little too close to El’s ear to be convincingly meaningless. Maybe Mia really does have a point.

El smiles at him softly, and even though their eyes don’t meet, he knows Erik feels it. “Glad I stayed behind, then.”

“Yeah … ” he whispers, and for a second it almost seems like he wants to say something else too, but he doesn’t. Instead they lapse into a comfortable silence, staring up at the stars together, Erik’s arm a gentle and reassuring presence resting at his waist. He’s surprisingly warm considering the temperature of the night.

“Have I told you how pretty you are lately?” Erik glances down at him, his expression somehow genuine, smug, and infuriatingly attractive all at once. “Because you are.”

“You’re pretty good looking yourself.” El’s tone is as light as he can possibly make it, even as Mia’s words echo across his mind like she’s playing on a loop, her voice whispering at him to do something, anything.

He doesn’t listen to the voices, not this time, content to let his head drop onto Erik’s shoulder and stay there. That’s enough. That’s all he wants. That’s all he could reasonably ask for, anyway.

***

The ship is well past Zwaardsrust, but they’re skirting around the ports of Dundrasil because of the search for … well, him. El still comes out on deck to stare at the sky when it’s nighttime. Partly because he usually runs into someone else. Tonight that someone else is waiting for him, right in their usual spot, his arms resting along the edge of the rail.

“Erik? Is something wrong?” he asks softly as he approaches. Erik’s rarely there before him, and he never just stands there alone, but right now, it’s just him and the lunar light. Come to think of it, El has no idea where the rest of the crew is. They must all be asleep. Is it really that late?

He sighs heavily, resting his chin in his crossed arms. “I’ve gotta tell you something.”

El takes the spot just to his right. “Alright.”

“When we get to Gondolia, you have to go. They’re worried about you, El, and you have more important things to do. It’s not like you can just vanish. You’re the crown prince, you should go back, alright?”

Staring at him, El is silent.

“Please,” Erik whispers, his voice breaking. “Just leave. For both of our sakes.”

“I thought you said I could stay with you,” El pleads. “I thought you wanted me here. Erik, I want to stay, I - “

“You aren’t making this easy,” he growls. “I want you to stay too. But you can’t. That’s it. End of discussion. So when we get to Gondolia, you’re going to call up your personal guard or whatever and go back to your kingdom.”

“If you want me to stay, then why are you making me leave?”

Erik smiles softly at the sky, a sharp contrast to the fire in his eyes from moments before, and El desperately wants to slap the expression off of his face. They’re fighting, damn it, can’t Erik stop being loveable for half a second? “It’s not like you’re leaving forever,” he says, his tone implying that El’s missed something obvious. “If you can get away for three months at a time, you can leave for a day or two, right? Whenever we’re in Dundrasil, I can let you know.”

Caught off guard, El beams. “You’d really do that for me?” he asks, and Erik rolls his eyes, but he nods. “As long as you promise to visit sometimes, that’s okay. Once every few months?”

“Sure. S’long as you bring me a bunch of presents.”

El glares at him, and they both end up laughing, but in that moment, he promises himself that when he sees Erik again, he’ll spoil him to the furthest extent he possibly can.

***

It takes another three days to reach Gondolia, and by that time, everyone on the ship has been told about his planned departure. Upon hearing the news, Mia bursts into angry tears, protesting that she wants El to stay, but Erik promises her that they’ll still visit him. This is what truly convinces El that Erik was telling the truth. If Mia knows too, she’ll make sure that it happens.

El tells them all at dinner that he’s going to leave early in the morning so none of them have to say goodbye.

He rolls out of bed, already regretting his decision against letting himself wake up properly, and puts on the coat that used to be Erik’s, the one had Kai tailored to fit him when it was revealed that he hadn’t taken much additional clothing with him. It’s purple, which is a little strange because he’s never worn much purple before, but he thinks it looks nice.

It takes barely any time. The only possession with him that he really cares about is his silver charm bracelet, and he’s wearing that already. He takes a woven choker that Mia had given him, and the greatsword he’d bought months ago. Everything else gets left behind.

El prowls up the stairs as silently as he can, but despite his best efforts, his arm is caught by someone’s hand just after he’s reached the top of the stairs. He swivels to face the person holding him captive.

Erik purses his lips.

“What are you- “ El starts, but he’s cut off when Erik throws his arms around him, drawing him in close.

Without giving it a second thought, El returns the gesture, burying his face in Erik’s shoulder, noting the soft fabric of his loose sleep clothes. Did Erik really get up early for this … ? For  _ him _ ?

“I hate that I’m gonna miss you,” he mumbles, his voice rougher, drier than usual, in that way that suggests that he had, in fact, just woken up.

“I’ll miss you too, but I don’t hate it.”

“Yeah, well, that’s you, and I’m me.” Erik shoots him one last cocky grin, and El tries to memorize everything about it: the way his lips raise up higher on one side of his mouth than the other, the way his eyes gleam, the way his head tilts slightly.

He could swear he hears Erik saying the words “Until next time,” softly as he leaves. Maybe he just imagines it, but he likes to think it really happened.

The day passes quickly in Gondolia. Everyone rushes to inform the authorities that the crown prince has been found, and all the shops offer him free goods, which he declines for the most part.

El sits by the docks eating a slice of lemon cake from the bakery, avoiding all possible attention, and waits. He stares at the sea, wondering where the people he’s left behind are going now, wondering why he had felt so at home among them, wondering if he’d just made the worst decision of his life.

It’s past noon when Jasper arrives, or at least it’s past noon when Jasper finds him. They barely exchange a word, but then again, they don’t talk much. It’s an unspoken agreement of sorts between them. El silently gets up and follows him back to the entrance of town, where Jasper can cast a Zoom spell to take them back without distractions.

“I chose the wrong person to fall for,” El admits quietly as they’re leaving the crowded front square filled with merchants hawking their various products.

Jasper sighs. “You and I both,” he replies under his breath as the light of the spell consumes them.

Neither of them say any more than that, but Jade’s personal guard doesn’t feel the need to accompany her to the gardens when next she visits El in Dundrasil, and El comes back from his day off at the docks two months later wearing a huge grin and a new necklace made of silver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing this made me cry because I didn't wanna make him leave :(((
> 
> shame me for the half-sentence of Hendrik/Jasper please I am a fool over them and I am physically incapable of leaving them out
> 
> SIDE NOTE I am having a shitty time writing this recently! so this might have to go on hold for a couple weeks, but I'll be keeping up my other wip as best I can! also I'm currently working on a rarepair thing so look forward to that later on <33


	4. Anything For Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not me ignoring the fact that three years have passed between these two chapters, in the story, not in real life, although I'm sorry for the extensive break I've taken. aaa this things is a trainwreck but I swear I'm going to finish it someday-
> 
> also if you're actually reading this still, you can now be counted among the ranks of the elite

The messenger that delivers the news is none other than Jade. She runs into the castle in a panic, real fear in her eyes for the first time in what seems like ages. Her purple silk day dress is covered in a layer of dust, decorated with the occasional splatter of mud from her horse’s hooves. The horse is identified as Hendrik’s own faithful steed Obsidian, who apparently doesn’t mind being stolen if it’s their princess doing the stealing.

“Calm down,” Rab offers, taking her coat and hanging it up on a hook on the wall. “What’s the matter, lass?”

“My father is going to declare war on Dundrasil,” she announces breathlessly. “There’s already an army approaching from the north, in the wilds near Octagonia. He’s going to kill you. You have to leave with me if you want to make it out alive.”

“Carnelian would never - “ Irwin sputters, but he recalls the reports of suspicious activity in the north, and he can’t help but wonder if the princess could be right.

“I’ve left Heliodor,” she mutters under her breath. “I don’t know what’s become of my father. Something’s wrong with him. I couldn’t just sit there and let you all get hurt. You’re my family.” She smiles warmly at them, but she snaps back to reality all too quickly, her lips setting back into a somber line. She doesn’t do that.

“Why are they going after us?” Eleanor asks softly, but the sharp edge in her voice is noticeable. “It’s because of El’s … abilities, isn’t it?”

Jade sighs heavily, wringing her hands as she shucks off her mud-covered boots. “I think so. He says that El is the Darkspawn, and he’s decided that the best way to deal with this is to kill you. It’s horrible. Hendrik is on their side, and I believe Jasper has joined the war efforts as well. I just don’t understand.”

“I thought he had the power of the Luminary. How could El be a Darkspawn?” Irwin frowns at the table, pressing his fingers into his temples.

“I don’t even know how to use them,” El protests, but it has no effect on anyone else in the room. Apparently it doesn't matter that he has no idea about the extent of whatever his Luminary powers are. “How are you planning on escaping?” he asks instead, glancing to Jade as she hands off her boots to one of the gardeners, who promptly douses them in water. Her face falls, and that tells him all he needs to know. She doesn’t have a plan. Judging by Rab. Irwin, and Eleanor’s matching expressions, they don’t either.

“I must stay,” declares Irwin, his eyes flitting over to the suit of armor encased in glass to his left. “I cannot abandon my kingdom, not when my people are in danger. But El, you and Jade need to get away. In the case that I fail … “

“Irwin!” the queen chides. “Don’t talk like that. Of course you will succeed. I’ve never doubted your talent, and neither has anyone else in our kingdom. In the meantime, we need to find a way to escape. I can accompany them both.”

“Aye, as can I,” Rab adds, grinning proudly. “But there’s still the wee issue of travel. I dinnae have any ideas.”

“Nor do I,” admits Jade, her mouth twisting further into a frown.

“I might,” says El quietly. “If you’re all willing to come with me, it should take about three more days. He was coming back from Sniflheim. And from there … I don’t know if he’ll take us, but it’s all I can think of … “

And this is how El came to be standing at the docks of the Dundrasilian lowlands for the first time in about four months, next to the recently named and slightly modified Icesplitter, finally introducing Erik to his family. This isn’t exactly how he had originally envisioned it going, but at least they all approve of him. Not that they have much of a choice.

“Let me get this straight,” Erik says skeptically, his eyebrows already vanishing into his hair. “You want me to take you along with us, because the king of Heliodor is gonna try to kill you all. So I'm harboring fugitives.”

“Yes,” replies Jade, her tone flat, staring him down threateningly. Her platinum claws flash from the inside of her bag, and his eyes dart across the gleam of metal.

“You owe me so many favors,” he mutters to El as he reluctantly lets them on board.

“You owe me a wedding,” El reminds him, keeping his tone as casual as he can, and Erik gives him a soft chuckle in response. His heart leaps. El had no idea that he’d miss that sound so much.

“El!” a familiar female voice practically squeals, and Mia throws herself into his arms. El laughs as she latches herself around his waist and buries her face in his chest, grinning wildly. She looks almost exactly the same: deep blue braid, ever-present smirk at her lips, glittering expressive eyes, the mirror image of her brother’s. She’s a little bit taller, just enough that he can notice it. If only their reunion were under better circumstances.

“Good ta meet ya,” a somewhat stout man greets as Mia detaches herself. “El, am I right? Heard lots about ya from Erik, heh.”

“Shut up,” Erik growls in warning, but when he turns back to El, his voice is soft again. He tries (and fails) not to think about the possible meanings of that. “This is Derk. But I guess you knew that. His signature was on the card. Yeah. Uh. Sorry. Still can’t do this.”

“You’re doing fine,” El reassures him, reaching out to run his fingers through the longer strands of Erik’s hair. “Wait, am I … taller than you?” he asks incredulously, gaping at the pirate.

“Gotta start wearing more heels,” he mumbles, but he smiles as El draws him in close and wraps his arms around him.

“I’m sorry. We didn’t have any other choice.” El buries his face in the curve of Erik’s shoulder, his own personal safe haven. Erik’s been the one person he trusted most (after Jade, of course), the one constant in his ever-changing world, and now is no exception. He wouldn’t have predicted  _ that _ three years ago. He’s so different. They’re both so different.

“I don’t mind. As long as you all do some crew work, I’m fine with it. No just-the-passenger act for you. You can all do something to help. Can they fight?”

Jade scoffs. “What do you think?” She raises one leg to display her boots, sliding the blades out of the treads and holding herself in a ready position. “Need a demonstration?”

“Nope, I’m good,” Erik gets out in a rush, and she calmly conceals the blades in her boots again.

“Shell! Hey, Shell! El’s back!” Mia hisses down the stairs, and a dramatic gasp finds its way back to them.

Michelle rushes out into the bright sunlight, blinking and swiping at her eyes. She’s followed by Kai, and a few moments later, Healijah, and then a woman he doesn’t recognize. Probably the other new signature on the card. Opal, if he recalls correctly. She has a twisted, messy bun of dark curly hair piled on top of her head.

“Is he really?” asks Michelle, smiling even more brightly than usual when her eyes find El, still wrapped tight in Erik’s arms. “Wonderful! We’ve missed you so much. Erik was constantly talking about you, setting aside gifts - oh, I ruined it, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” Mia says plainly, and Michelle smiles guiltily at her feet.

“It’s only one thing,” Erik corrects. “Don’t get your hopes up. You’re already spoiled. And I’m not gonna show you till later. A lot later.”

“Ooze this?” Healijah waves a tentacle in Rab’s direction, and another in Jade’s, and another in Eleanor’s. “Friends of yours?”

“Am I missin’ somethin’?” Rab raises an eyebrow at Healijah, and then turns to the pair of them, the prince and the pirate, far too close for friends. El suddenly realizes just how strange this must seem to them. He quickly separates himself from Erik, even though something pleads for him to stay. Probably his heart intervening again, trying to convince him that he’s in love with Erik. Well, it’s not going to work  _ this _ time. Maybe in a few minutes.

“We know each other, that’s all,” Erik mutters, his hand shooting up to his blue spikes. “We kinda became friends when El ran away for three months a few years ago, and, uh, he stowed away on my ship.”

Rab chuckles warmly. “Ah, so ye were with pirates, eh, laddie? I always knew ye liked adventure.”

“They visit me every few months to see me. Whenever they’re in Dundrasil.” El waves brightly to Zoe as she descends from her place in the sky.

Jade stares at her, and Zoe stares right back, a clear challenge.

“You can see the stars in the daylight?” Jade asks hesitantly, shattering the silence. She can’t tear her gaze away from Zoe’s green eyes, held captive.

“Yep,” the succubat replies, folding her ruby red wings behind her neatly. “Part of the reason I left the First Forest. Turns out it’s not normal to have day vision instead of night. My talents were wasted there.” Her voice goes noticeably lower towards the end. “Oh, and I’m Zoe,” she adds, almost an afterthought.

There’s a painful moment of silence, and then Jade laughs, a rich, full, sound, one El can only extract from her on good days, and today can hardly be called a good day.

“Jade. I think we’ll get along.”

“Okay, so now can we assign quarters?” Mia darts belowdecks, her voice echoing back up to them as they follow her down the stairs. “El already has a room, right? You can just go there, it’s fine. Maybe help clear out the shit in there.”

Eleanor doesn’t offer any reaction to her language. If it were someone in the palace she would probably be scolding them right now, but she probably recognizes that she’s not in a position to take charge.

Erik takes his wrist and leads him to the right side of the hallway, and for a second it almost looks like they’re going to his room, but instead they head to the door right next to it, the one El remembers claiming mainly for its proximity to Erik’s.

Grinning sheepishly, Erik gestures vaguely around, his arm encompassing the entire room. “I, uh, put a few things in here. Most of them were for you anyway, but I’ll take these,” he offers, opening up the closet and removing a sharp tailored jacket in midnight blue that El had had made specially for him about six months ago. “There isn’t enough space in my room?” he half-heartedly protests when El laughs.

A single skeptical look, and Erik crumbles. “Okay, so I have a room dedicated to you for when you’re not here. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing. It’s cute.”

“Sure,” he scoffs, sticking his tongue out playfully as he brushes against El’s shoulder on his way to the door, coat in hand.

While he’s gone, El briefly glances around the room. Drapes for the walls, wool pillows, a moderate-sized selection of clothing in the closet consisting of a few long coats, some plain but warm pairs of pants, and several silk shirts, among other things. He can’t help but notice the number of these shirts that walk the line of transparency.

When Erik comes back in, El has his face buried in the closet, examining his wardrobe, and he doesn’t hear him entering. He definitely feels the arms around his waist and the head resting on his shoulder, though.

“Missed me?” El asks teasingly, ignoring the desire to press backwards and envelop himself in Erik’s warmth.

“You have no idea.” Erik’s lips brush against the shell of his ear, and he shivers involuntarily.

Turning his head a fraction in an attempt to get a better look, El bites his lip.

Suddenly the room feels a lot warmer.

Slowly, too slowly, El turns in his arms so they’re facing each other. One of Erik’s arms lingers at his waist, the other moving to the base of his neck, his fingers toying with the soft short hair at his nape.

His sea-blue eyes go a shade deeper as he draws himself a little closer and crushes his mouth to El’s, earning a soft gasp. El melts into the heated kiss, relying on the half-closed door of the closet behind him for support as Erik draws him in as close as he can, so they’re all but pressed up against each other. And it feels good. Sinfully good.

Sweet Yggdrasil above, _ that’s _ something he’s thought about far too many times.

El draws in a shaky breath as Erik pulls back slightly, leaving barely any distance between them, enough that it would take no effort at all to return to their previous position, something El really shouldn’t be tempted to do.

“Not too bad,” Erik murmurs, a dangerous edge to his voice that only serves to make El’s nerves spark further, but with excitement rather than fear. Probably both, actually, but if he feels the second, he ignores it.

Smirking, Erik licks his lips as slowly as he can, his eyes glittering with satisfaction as El’s eyes dart down to his mouth, even just for a brief second. Caught in the act.

El tilts his head slightly to the side. “I think you like me,” he offers lightly, his pulse pounding beneath his calm facade.

“Not a chance,” Erik growls, pinning him against the closet, the tips of his fingers snaking between the buttons of El’s shirt and brushing against his bare chest.

Whatever witty response El was preparing falls apart the second their mouths connect again.

Reluctantly, El pushes him off as gently as he can. “Erik. Why are you doing this? Are you just using me?”

“I do like you, alright?” he huffs, but he’s unable to look El in the eye, glaring at his own boots, and for some reason this makes El believe him. “I just don’t want to be a thing. I think you’re cute and sweet and - you deserve better.”

El lets out a small laugh, trying to conceal the vast amount of relief packed into it and probably failing abysmally. “That’s nice of you, I think. But … if you change your mind, tell me?”

“You don’t get it,” he snarls, voice going lower. “You’re a prince. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about that.”

“That doesn’t matter,” El protests, reaching out for one of Erik’s hands and holding it loosely in his own. “I don’t care, I - “

“Stop,” he demands, quiet and soft and deadly. “You’re so naive. You honestly think they won’t throw you into some arranged marriage for more power? Because they will. Believe me, I’ve seen how this works.”

El falls silent, for once at a loss for words. Yes, he knew that happened, but would Eleanor and Irwin really do that to him?

“Just - forget about this, okay?” Erik pleads, a rare note of desperation in his voice. He tugs his hand back out of El’s loose grip, leaving him feeling cold and empty in more ways than one. “It’s better that way.”

“No, it’s not better.” El tries to take hold of his wrist, but as always, he’s too fast. Erik can only be caught if he wants to be. “Stay with me, please, I want you t- “

“That’s the problem. You shouldn’t want me to stay.” Erik turns away, ducking his head as he reaches for the door. “And I shouldn’t want to stay either,” he whispers, the soft, defeated tones of his voice cutting into El sharper and swifter than any blade. Like it’s something to be ashamed of. Like  _ he’s _ something to be ashamed of.

Before El has time to say anything, to protest his decision, to profess his feelings, whatever he could have done to save himself, Erik is gone, taking with him a far-too-large piece of El’s heart.

He flops face-first onto the bed and tries to wipe the echo of Erik’s lips from his memory, to no avail. The scene keeps replaying in his head. The only difference is that every time he sees it, Erik stays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like I said, I broke my own heart. if I have to suffer so do you.
> 
> I do kinda have a plan for the next chapter which is exciting! perhaps that will actually be coming out in a little bit, depends on if I get flashes of inspiration and motivation or not. we'll see! my life is getting more and more hectic by the day so please be patient with me


	5. Now You See Me ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES I'm still alive hi there
> 
> ANYWAY this took a lot longer than expected. excuses: trying to have a social life, extensive schoolwork, writing for something else that's gonna come out in like december that I just can't wait to get started on, getting into a new fandom, the list goes on.
> 
> expect slightly more regular updates to this, I think I'm gonna make it like eight chapters???

“I’ve got something to show you all,” Eleanor declares proudly, her voice wavering slightly despite the overall confidence she exudes. She reaches into the pocket of her coat, rummaging through nothing, digging a hole in the desert in an attempt to find groundwater, except that if she’s to be believed, there’s actually something there. Admittedly El has his doubts about this.

“Go on, don’t keep us in suspense.” Opal eggs her on, and Eleanor’s cheeks color slightly in embarrassment. It doesn’t really make sense, but neither does seeing the queen in anything other than her favorite formal dresses and her usual selection of heavy jewelry.

Erik’s eyes give away his skepticism and mild panic. His expression perfectly mirrors El’s feelings about the situation.

“Here!” she exclaims delightedly. In her hand there’s a thin chain, and at the end of it, a pendant. It’s small and round, made of polished wood with an intricate carved design that could be a mandala of sorts, or perhaps a sigil.

“It’s supposed to reveal someone’s true form if they’re enchanted,” Eleanor explains at everyone’s blank looks, her tone similar to that of a tutor who thinks their student isn’t quite enlightened enough to understand the complexities of their highly intellectual statement. Even though she’s talking about a weird and potentially cursed necklace.

Zoe raises a single eyebrow. “Um … does it work?”

“It has to be put on,” argues Eleanor, shooting the succubat a scandalized look. Zoe doesn’t back down, instead opting to roll her eyes and shake her head softly. “We can try it, can we not? Pass it around, see if anyone’s under a spell.” She gives a very un-Eleanor-ish giggle as she fastens the charm around her neck. After a few seconds of tense silence, nothing happens, so she passes it Rab at her right.

He investigates it for a moment, examining it from various angles, but he eventually deems it nonthreatening and follows suit. Again, nothing happens, so he unfastens it and hands it off to Derk.

Derk tries it on. Nothing. Opal, Jade and Zoe all try it, and their appearances don’t change. Zoe says she feels her stomach twist, but other than that, everyone seems completely normal.

The instant Healijah takes the necklace in two tentacles, wearing a floppy but upbeat grin, the healslime fades into a cloud of pale light. Once his eyes have adjusted, El nearly jumps out of his seat.

Instead of the usual friendly blue floating slime, standing before him is a wizard in green robes with hair just a shade off of Erik and Mia’s unique cerulean. At least, he thought it was unique. He offers them all a wry smile and a small wave in greeting.

Jade looks more than a little faint, and Opal has already tumbled facefirst onto the table.

“Caught, I suppose,” he says lightly, offering a polite smile and handing the charm back to Eleanor. “I’d say this little pendant is effective, wouldn’t you?”

“You aren’t a slime,” Jade states flatly.

“What does it matter? It isn’t as if I was lying to you all. If you’d asked me, I would have answered truthfully.” The spellcaster tilts his head slightly to the side, as if awaiting a confirmation that they’ve understood his implication. El gets it perfectly well, and judging by the others’ expressions, they do too, not that it improves anything.

“Now if you don’t mind, I’ll just goo back to my slime form.” He laughs, his voice going higher again as he fades into a small puff of magical dust, reappearing as the Healijah they’re used to. The healslime waits expectantly for the discussion to continue, but instead all eyes around the table remain on him.

Derk glares at him with more skepticism than the situation probably requires. “An’ I spose we’re to act like you’re not a sorcerer disguisin’ yourself as a monster?”

“Yeah,” Erik snaps. “Yeah, just let him do what he wants, alright? Why do you care? I’ve known the whole time, but you don’t see _me_ trying to tell him he’s not doing it right.”

Derk falls silent.

“Except the slime puns,” Erik corrects. “Sorry. I know you kinda like those.”

Healijah beams. “No, it’s alright.”

“He makes a good slime,” Bouey adds, directing a fond smile in Healijah’s direction. “Anyslime they bother you, let me know,” he mutters, and what little color remains in Derk’s face drains.

“Anyone else want a turn?” Eleanor holds up the necklace, a bright smile lighting up her soft hazel eyes with a bewitching glow, one more suited to a midnight wanderer than a queen. She looks straight out of a fairy tale, her odd charm dangling, her face almost deceptively gentle, but El knows that in reality she’s just as gentle as she looks.

“Nope,” Mia blurts, snatching Erik’s hand back from where it had been reaching out for the pendant. “No, we don’t,” she repeats, her voice a low hiss, and suddenly Erik’s eyes widen slightly. It makes El faintly uneasy, but as Erik shrugs it off and continues with their previous discussion, he lets it slip by him. It can’t be that important, and besides, he and Erik didn’t exactly leave things well.

El wishes he was thirteen again, on an adventure with Erik at his side, calling it love just for the hell of it. He can’t pretend that this is the same. Whatever _this_ is doesn’t want to be named. He’s tried, Goddess only knows how much he’s tried, but none of it fits, none of it works, none of it is an adequate description of the way his mind liquefies when Erik glances in his direction. He can’t tell anymore what it might be, only that it’s magnetic, and that he hates himself for it.

Erik’s crystal blue eyes catch a sliver of light, shimmering with a hint of a hopeful glow, and for once El doesn't allow himself to get lost in them. In the long run it’s probably better to spare himself.

***

Avoiding Erik is difficult. He seems to be everywhere. El finds himself turning on his heel in the middle of a hallway more than once over the next few days. It’s hard to walk away from him, too. El’s never actually done that before, but now that he’s started he has no plans of stopping.

Erik rounds the corner in front of El, and starts upon seeing him. “El - “ he calls, his voice soft and heartbreakingly gentle, and a strange weight blooms in his chest. He thought he’d never hear his name spoken like that. This certainly isn’t the way he would have wanted it.

He could close the distance between them, right now. It would be so easy. All he had to do was cross the gap, take Erik’s hand, whisper his name in return. They could work it out from there. That’s what they had always done before, and every time, without fail, it had ended up alright.

El throws open the door to his left and turns before he can give in to the (overwhelmingly strong) desire to fix it all.

As if it would work in the first place.

He hears the door open behind him, but Erik’s footsteps never follow.

El tells himself that what he’s feeling is relief, but he knows that’s not completely true. He shoves down the part of him that’s heartbroken, and it complies surprisingly easily.

“Hello?” a familiar voice calls out. “Erik? Mia? Who is it?”

“It’s El,” he replies, and his low tones echo all around the room. El takes the stairs carefully, one at a time, making absolutely certain that he doesn’t falter. When he finally reaches the bottom step, he glances around, and then he gasps.

The room is dominated by a pool of water, about the size of one of the larger fountains in Dundrasil’s gardens, but the part that gets to him is the pool’s contents. Namely, Michelle.

“Would you like to stay with me?” Her voice is just as soft and kind as ever, even as her pink tail is in plain sight, and her skin shimmers with droplets of water. “It’s nice today in my small sea.” For the first time, she doesn’t attempt to correct herself.

For some reason he can’t identify, El finds himself saying “Sure,” and sitting at the edge of her pool. Cuffing up his pants, he dangles his legs off the ends so that they just barely dip into the water, his feet skimming the surface, creating little waves that somehow manage to cross the entire pool and brush up against the other side.

Michelle watches the water intently, lost in thought, and El quickly succumbs to the swirling vortex of muddled emotions in his mind too.

And so they sit there, both in their own worlds, silence filling the space between them.

It’s not a bad silence. It’s the silence of a garden that’s been left to itself to grow wild. It’s the silence of a blissfully empty room, leaving the occupant free to dance around without judgement to a tune nobody else can hear. It’s the silence of two people who don’t need words. That’s it: they don’t need words. A quiet acceptance is good enough.

How long they sit there, El has no idea. He only notices that time has passed at all when he hears some sort of movement from above, startling him out of his thoughts.

He leaves with only a quick wave as a parting gift.

El’s steps echo along the oddly silent hallway. Each time his boots meet the wood, the sound reverberates back to him. That’s never happened before. Huh. No Erik making snarky comments. No Mia laughing. No Jade and Zoe complaining about something or other. No Rab and Derk trying to teach the other their respective forms of magic. No Bouey and Healijah up in the lookout tower. Nothing.

Just him, and the stairs, and the bottomless pit of guilt in his stomach. A winning combination.

El blinks at the glaring sunlight blocking out his vision, and as he glances around at everyone on the deck, he gets the distinct impression that something is off.

Then he notices the eight Heliodorian soldiers. Fully equipped, swords drawn, everything. Several even have their helmets on. For their part, they seem pretty fed up, but as one of them moves in El’s direction, his brain goes completely blank except for the thought that he should really get away from them.

“An’ jus’ who are you?” the soldier closest to him grumbles, one hand planted on her hip. She sweeps her short dark hair out of her eyes, a pretty similar style to Erik’s except in color. A small silver circlet glistens from between the spikes of her hair. She looks oddly familiar, but El tells himself it’s just because she’s a Heliodorian captain. Maybe she traveled with Jade once.

Even with her appearance altered by Rab’s spell, El can see the panic in Jade’s eyes. They’re still the same rich shade of purple, but her hair is blonde, loose, and lacking the luster of her usual sleek ponytail. She’s in a green and white dress with a matching green headband.

Eleanor is disguised too, but she’s in a skin-tight blue suit, and her hair is a rat’s nest of dirty blonde with a small red gem set in the center. Rab seems to have taken the form of another man his age, but one with more hair and a small orange hat.

The guard draws closer, and El wishes that he had come up earlier so he could have Rab’s illusion up for him too. He asks Yggdrasil to send him a savior, but he doubts that She’s even listening to him.

“Stop right there.”

To El’s surprise, the captain of the guards actually stops, huffing in irritation, but stopping all the same. She stares down Erik with something almost akin to familiarity in her eyes. “What? D’you want me t’get fired?” she hisses.

“Nobody touches him.” Erik makes a few swift steps, and all of a sudden he’s by El’s side, his usual smirk on his lips even though his eyes betray his nerves. El tries his best for a reassuring smile, but it doesn't quite come. It’s nice of Erik to try to help him out of this corner, but there’s not much any of them can do … at least he got confirmation that Erik really does care.

“Nobody but me,” he purrs, voice smoother than silk, eyes narrowing.

Sparks of something strange shoot through him. El shivers.

One of the guards snickers from within the confines of their helmet.

“‘S that so?” she asks, almost bored.

There’s something particularly determined in his eyes as Erik hauls him in, and before El can ask what he’s planning, their mouths crash together.

El’s eyes widen, but he tries to conceal his surprise as Erik tangles his fingers into his hair and roughly tugs it downwards to give himself more leverage. His tongue slips into the gap between El’s lips, and Erik hungrily claims his mouth as his own. And El is fully willing to give it up.

El breaks off, gasping for breath. “What are you - “

“Trust me,” Erik whispers, his voice barely a shade over the volume of the wind. He sinks his teeth down on the inside of El’s lower lip, cutting off any possible response, and El whimpers, his grip on the edge of Erik’s coat tightening.

“Try putting your hands on my partner,” Erik growls, his hands already out of El’s hair and at the hilts of his knives at his hip. “See where it lands you.”

The knight offers Erik nothing more than a single heavy scowl.

“C’mon, Winnie, just let ‘em go.”

“Fine,” she - Winnie, apparently - mutters. “Time t’go. More damn ships ready for searchin’. They never do run out,” she grouches. “Jus’ leave already.”

“If you insist,” Erik says icily, not even looking up, lazily twirling one of his knives between his fingers. It’s nothing more than a tactic, a bluff, a formality. If he were serious, he’d have it in his left hand, but this one’s in his right.

As they disembark, returning to their own ships at the makeshift checkpoint, Jade visibly relaxes, and Mia rakes her hand through her hair, a nervous habit stolen from her brother.

Erik, on the other hand, appears completely calm. He busies himself replacing the knife in its sheath. “You okay?” he asks softly, his eyes darting up to meet El’s.

It’s only the briefest second of contact, but El’s brain short-circuits as Erik’s gaze lands on him.

He swallows, forcing down the many thoughts racing across his mind that all seem to center around whatever the hell just happened.

 _No,_ he wants to say. _No, I’m not okay. I’m never going to be okay again. I like it when you kiss me, but I want you to_ mean _it, look me in the eyes, tell me that I’m beautiful and that you’ll never leave me behind again -_

“I’m fine,” he lies instead, and shoves down the voices that plead otherwise.

Mia scowls, and El gets the distinct impression that she can see through him as easily as one of the shirts in his closet. “Where were you?” she asks, her voice low in a way that suggests she’s holding back. El finds himself grateful that she’s keeping herself in check, for everyone’s sake.

“With Michelle, in the pool room. Is that what it was intended to be used for?”

“Not exactly,” Erik hedges, a small smirk taking over his features. “It works pretty well, though. I’m assuming you found out about, uh, the reason she needs that room?”

“Yes,” he admits. “Should I not- “

“Oh, it’s perfectly alright. I’d planned on telling you t- later this evening.”

Michelle stands in the doorway of the stairs, wringing out her soaking wet pink hair onto the deck. She looks unstable, like she could topple over at any moment, and El isn’t sure whether she’s fully returned to her normal form (the one he’s used to seeing, at least).

“I’m not a mermaid. Well, not any longer, at least,” she says darkly, and the next twist of her hair is done with more force than strictly necessary. More droplets of water pour out of her thick pink curls. “But when my darling Kai found me, it turned out the reason I couldn’t sleep sometimes was because I was transforming! Imagine my surprise … “

Kai chuckles. “Imagine _mine._ I woke up in the middle of the night and my girlfriend had a tail. Pretty weird.”

“Clearly you didn't mind _that_ much,” Mia mutters under her breath, her eyes cutting slyly to the side, and Kai grins guiltlessly. If only he could flaunt affection so easily.

“Anyway, Shell helped us, so we helped her.” Erik shrugs, to general confusion. As far as El is aware, it isn’t exactly normal to take on a part-time mermaid and brush it off as nothing. Maybe Erik’s just that sweet.

“Is anyone on your crew … a normal person?” Jade asks delicately.

“Nope,” Kai replies without hesitating, and he shrugs.

Jade gives a breathy, half-delirious laugh.

“Are they goone yet?”

“Yeah,” yells Erik, shaking his head softly as Bouey throws himself off the lookout tower, landing with a sickening _splat_. Healijah floats down gracefully alongside him.

“Is that where you were.”

Nobody offers Erik an answer, but it wasn't really a question anyway.

“I can show you the pool room, if you like,” Michelle offers, motioning to the door behind her. “For those of you who haven’t seen it yet.”

Opal beams, a strand of her curly hair falling loose as she nods in agreement. “Ooh, that would be lovely!”

“I’ll come too,” Mia announces. “It’s pretty sweet.” She motions for Zoe, who follows her without questioning it. El senses there’s something else they aren’t saying, but they’re allowed to have their secrets.

Strangely enough, everyone but Erik follows Michelle.

“Aren’t you going to leave?” El asks bluntly.

“No.” Erik runs a hand through his hair, but he gives up the effort when his fingers run into a knot halfway through. “Have you, uh, have you been avoiding me?”

El offers him a dry laugh. “Yes. How’d you tell?”

“I have to tell you something,” he blurts, and then bites his lip, in the same exact spot he’d bit El’s minutes before. “Look, I know I’m kind of an idiot, and I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know that I’m trying. I’m not good with words or anything. I suck at that, actually. I guess you knew that, but - _fuck_. You can’t be serious,” he mumbles.

“What is it?” El reaches for Erik’s hand, and he halfheartedly tries to move his hand away, but El knows it’s not a real attempt. Erik can only be caught if he wants to be.

“Don’t turn around,” he hisses out of the corner of his mouth.

And like the fool he is, El turns around.

A faintly amused, condescending laugh sounds from behind him. A very familiar laugh. One that’s usually reserved for the speaker’s challengers after he’s beaten them. One that’s never been shot in El’s direction before, always issued from his side, but that he’s heard countless times nonetheless.

“Isn’t this a heartwarming reunion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really attached to Winnie after writing this and I want to include her as an easter egg in more stuff!!! (and yes she is who you think she is, I'm so sorry)
> 
> first scene creds to Eris, who is an angel as always, and feeds me content. I'm forever grateful to you for actually tolerating me, because I'm ... well. I'm Cas. let's put it like that.
> 
> PSA this is basically the space where I dump all my practice makeouts now, fun!


	6. Light It Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how has it been a week. time has started evaporating. ANYWAY it's tuesday so I'm posting
> 
> a lil shorter than usual but I wrote Jasper POV which took major effort and resulted in a lot of struggling. turns out I'm not that great at channeling him! well! let's see how this goes!

Jasper smirks, and his hand fills with a swirling mess of darkness, the color of the night sky without a moon or any stars, of the world without the sparks of hope to break the monotony.

Right to business, huh? El could take that.

His fingers aren’t even to the handle of his broadsword yet when the gathering darkness spell leaves Jasper’s hand and starts to rocket towards him.

So maybe he can’t take that. Alright, he might be fucked.

From his side, he can hear Erik draw in a sharp breath.

Damn it, if only he were faster.

In the time before the spell makes contact, El doesn’t make a move, instead only bracing himself. He estimates that it’ll take only a second or two to find him and strike true, considering the (scant) distance the spell has to travel and what he already knows of Jasper’s (excellent and regarded as perhaps the best in Erdrea) skill with magic.

He screws his eyes shut.

Only to be met with the sound of a grunt, followed by an unusually shaky inhale.

El opens his eyes, and all he can see is Erik, collapsed in front of him, his breathing uneven, the rise and fall of his chest irregular in a way that can’t be good. A second too late, as always. Why can’t he get something right for once? Just one thing, that’s all. He can’t even save himself without Erik, and from the way this is turning out, that’s going to become a very serious issue in the foreseeable future.

He does the first thing that comes to mind, but Erik slaps him away hard enough to leave the echo of the feel of his own hand lingering on El’s.

Erik glances up. For the first time since El has known him, his eyes don’t dance with the reflection of the sunlight, despite the copious amounts of it. They’re completely in the dark, the perfect azure swallowed by the lack of light. El vows to get revenge for that alone. No one robs Erik of his breathtaking shade of blue, not if El has anything to say about it. Nobody else can have that color. It’s reserved only for him. It  _ is _ him.

El sets his hands on the hilt of his broadsword, his grip so tight that his knuckles start to go pale. Jasper floats above the ship, laughing softly as Erik continues to put up a fight, and as El starts to move to defend him. Four inches of the silver blade flash out of the sheath, and El glares at Jasper with as much determination as he can muster. He’s not just determined, he’s furious, he’s  _ livid, _ because it’s all well and good hurting  _ him, _ but hurting Erik is where he draws the line.

“What are you doing?” Erik hisses. “I bought you some time - use it!”

El scowls. His voice is too low, too gritty, and he’s worried that Erik’s not going to be okay … but he’s just leaping to conclusions, overthinking as always, right? “I’m absolutely not going to leave you.”

“Damn it, El. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me, alright? Get yourself the hell out. He didn’t come here for me.”

The logic in Erik’s argument isn’t enough to convince him to leave his side.

“Fucking idiot,” Erik mutters, and then his eyes fall shut, and his chest stops moving, and El panics, because this can’t be happening, and it’s all his fault, all his fault,  _ all his fault _ .

Fucking idiot indeed.

Jasper’s elegant, expensive heeled boots make a satisfying pattern of clicks as he leisurely paces in his direction, and El shoots up immediately upon hearing him. No chance he’s letting Jasper get out of this one.

“Well, my dear prince? Haven’t you got something to do?” Jasper scoffs. He walks with precise, measured steps, gaining on El steadily. With every second that trickles by, El loses ground, but any moves he might make would get him further away from Erik, which is the opposite of where he needs to be.

“I’m going to kill you for that.” El manages to draw his broadsword all the way out this time, the metal catching the light and reflecting back the abundance of afternoon sun. Erik’s figure still hasn’t moved, but El can’t bring himself to feel anything other than sheer unfiltered hatred at the moment.

Frustratingly enough, Jasper’s golden eyes remain void of emotion other than the slightest hint of a mocking twinkle.

“How inconsiderate of you. I do believe your boyfriend here intended for you to escape. It would be  _ such _ a shame if his efforts were put to waste, and all because you were too busy attempting to avenge him. Of course, if you’d rather stay together, I can arrange that.”

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” El chokes out, despite knowing that was the least important part of his speech to acknowledge, trying to ignore the rest of his words. His traitorous feet refuse to advance on Jasper, but at the very least they don’t flee just yet.

“You mistake me for a fool.” The blond knight smirks down at him, a familiar gesture, nothing short of condescending. “It’s not a secret that you and he have had, shall we say,  _ previous relations _ ,” he says softly, voice smooth and distinctly dangerous, reminiscent of the flat of a sword, the blade of which could be turned at any moment, should the holder wish to injure. “Most notably the months you spent on board his ship three years ago, and the regular visits from then on.”

El’s mouth goes dry.

“Letters sent to him, clothes made to his measurements, gold jewelry that never seems to find its way into your own wardrobe, nights spent with him … quite the scandal.”

“It’s not a scandal,” El protests weakly, but Jasper simply remains still, his face caught halfway to a smirk. Infuriatingly, the knight refuses to even draw his swords, instead just watching El’s internal struggle as he tries to force himself to turn his blade on Jasper. He fails every time, petrified of fear and worry, but not for himself.

“Imagine if your people knew what their innocent little prince has been doing with his kingdom’s reputation,” he sneers.

“I don’t care. I love him,” El snarls, finally getting up the courage to bring his blade crashing down, but instead of making the strike, his hands return it to its sheath. His own words make his head spin. It’s something he’s asked himself countless times, but he’s never given himself a satisfactory answer. At least, not until now.

The part that scares him is how easy it was, how simple, how natural, to say it.

“I expect I’ll be seeing you,” Jasper says lightly, as if the whole exchange had been nothing more than one of their standard conversations, perhaps while they were traveling somewhere.

El grits his teeth, turns around, and leaves behind the most precious treasure that had even been his.

***

The first thing Jasper sees is not, in fact, El with his sword brandished, which is what he’d expected. It isn’t Jade with her claws at the ready either. It isn’t even the bloodred succubat he’d seen in passing. The prince is impulsive, and often doesn’t think things like this through, something Jasper had been keen to take advantage of. It seems that luck isn’t on his side with this one, but perhaps he doesn’t need it.

What he sees is a pair of metal flashes coming straight for him, that both hit their mark.

In the seconds after the blades of the metal flashes slice into his leg, he realizes that they’re boomerangs, but not the traditional sort, deadlier, more like round knives.

His eyes follow their trail as they slice through the air, and they’re caught both at the exact same moment by a young teenage girl, her hair the exact same distinctive shade as his captive’s, but much thicker and contained in a messy twist. Her eyes hold alarming amounts of fury and bloodlust.

“Pathetic,” he scoffs in her vague direction. “Barely enough power in those throws to hurt me even if I weren’t wearing armor.”

“I know,” the girl says softly. Her voice is strangely amplified despite the seemingly quiet tone she has taken on. “That was on purpose. Don’t try that shit on me.”

It’s silent, too silent.

A sharp, powerful blow to his shoulder answers his unspoken question.

Jasper whirls around. El stares right back at him, his eyes unreadable, heaving his broadsword back over his shoulder with ease. His figure exudes a quiet confidence, one fueled by anger. He wouldn’t have any reason to believe it wasn’t a bluff, except for the shadow falling directly above him that looks nothing like his silhouette.

The instant he looks up to find the succubat above him in the sky, the pair of boomerangs hit him again, but this time he’s distracted, and the throws have much more power in them.

Unnatural amounts of power, for someone so young.

“You imbeciles think you will make it out of here alive? I pity you,” Jasper growls, although he’s playing for time. If Jade is still in hiding, waiting to ambush him as well … but that isn’t the problem here, not when El is almost ready to strike him again right in front of his own eyes.

“Especially you, my dear prince,” he continues smoothly, the words freezing him in his tracks, and Jasper has to work to contain his smug smile. “I always knew you were desperate for affection, but to sink so low as to fall in love with a pirate?”

His greatest weapon has never truly been his swords.

“In love?” a familiar voice asks. “You’re talking nonsense, Jasper.”

This group is fairly well coordinated, he thinks, as Jade’s claws tear at his hands reaching for his blades. And somehow he doesn’t see the boomerangs coming again, and they slice at his arms as their wielder draws close. Alarmingly close. Within striking distance, if he were inclined to draw his swords, but he isn’t. Something about this girl is off. The same way something was off with him.

“Don’t you dare touch my brother,” she hisses, and then she just stands there, smirking in an infuriatingly victorious manner.

A diversion. Behind him, his captor is being freed, but he can’t spare a thought for that, not when the girl in front of him has sparked something so foreign, some long-buried feeling of familiarity. Her eyes flash golden as another of her hits lands, this one a simple flick of the wrist with one of her weapons, as if he isn’t even worth using them both.

Golden, just like his.

She retreats to join her little group of rebels, and Jasper doesn't even try to follow. El carries his former hostage over his shoulder easily as if the weight means nothing to him.

“You and I aren’t so different,” he says quietly to their group, but they all hear him, and the blue-haired girl goes suddenly still as a statue. “You won’t be able to hide forever. Your kingdom will suffer. If you care for your people at all, you will have to face Heliodor at some point. We aren’t the type to give up easily.”

Suddenly it is not just his former captive’s sister who is frozen in their tracks.

When you have made your decision, I’ll be waiting for you,” he adds softly as they vanish behind a corner, finding their way back to their ship.

He waits until they’re all out of sight to collapse. The last scraps of his dignity are too precious to lose like this.

***

“Hey,” Erik protests as El practically tears the fastenings of his coat open, followed by the buttons of his shirt. “What’s the deal? Uh, you can’t just take my clothes off.”

“I’m  _ trying _ to help, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Clearly.” Erik smirks, pure evil. “I think I can get out of my own clothes just fine, though. Y’know, if you wanted me to strip so badly, you could’ve just asked.”

El’s hands fall still halfway down his shirt. He heaves a deep sigh, trying to conceal the way his heart is racing. “Please stop.”

“Sorry. Coping mechanism,” he mumbles, but he takes over from where El had been working on unfastening buttons nonetheless. El doesn’t offer any help. Erik’s words linger in his mind and take up much more than their fair share of space.

The sleeves shrug off easily, but the swirling mark emblazoned on his chest is an issue. The remnants of the darkness spell. El wonders if it will be permanent and tries to hide his grimace.

“Should I get Healijah or R- “

“You can heal, right?” Erik gets out in a rush. “Just … get it over with. And don’t tell the others. I don’t want them to worry about me.”

“You need worrying about,” El argues, but he summons the familiar green light to his hands in spite of his own words and lets them brush against the stain on his chest. The tension in Erik’s stance visibly eases, easing some of El’s own worries with it, like he could feel the same pain that Erik had. Not the physical pain, perhaps, but they’re capable of sharing the other things.

“Then you can do all the worrying.”

The healing magic does alarmingly little for the color. It’s slightly less dark, more a dusky purple than a swirling black, which is probably a good sign. He’s seen Jasper use darkness before, but never like that, not even in his most serious of duels. Hendrik had never faced the same fate that Erik now endured. What makes Erik a special case? What makes  _ him _ a special case?

Well, he knows the answer to that question. The mark on his hand tells the whole story.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” El blurts, dropping his face into his hands, void of the healing magic once again. “I should have done something to protect you, or taken the spell, and - and it’s all my fault - “

“El?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” Erik says plainly. His eyes hold some kind of tired amusement, almost like exasperation, which is completely uncalled for. Strange.

At El’s hurt glance, he sighs heavily. His hand shoots into his hair, and his fingers comb through the locks aimlessly. “Look, it was my choice, okay? Not yours. So it’s not your fault. Let me take credit for my own shitty decisions. I could probably write a book on the stupid things I’ve done. This one’s just another to add to the list.” Erik gives up on staying upright and falls backwards, so he’s lying down, staring vacantly at the ceiling.

He may not be a healer, but it’s clear in the way Erik hunches his shoulders that he’s still plagued by the echo of the spell, despite El’s best efforts and best intentions.

“What else is on the list, then?”

“You really wanna know?”

_ I want to know everything, when it’s you _ , El almost says, but he doesn’t manage to dredge up the courage, and he only nods. Erik understands, though, and he talks quietly, spinning a story about his first encounter with a Heliodorian knight-in-training, in Puerto Valor. Erik’s voice rises and falls gently, and the words become meaningless in comparison with the gentle lilt of his soft tones, rising and falling like waves crashing on the shore.

It’s nothing more than an empty comfort, but it’s effective, and neither of them care enough about the future to find a better substitute, something more permanent.

A life without trust is void of comfort, as it turns out. Maybe he hasn’t earned it, but it’s trust all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting into other fandoms now but I promise I'M GOING TO FINISH THIS, ERIS I PROMISE,
> 
> n e ways I might actually be kinda close to the end of this just because time constraints, finals are coming up, stuff like that! enjoy whatever I have time for-


	7. Sweet Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate everything. except for you, and the song 'technicolour beat' by oh wonder.

Night has coated the world in a warm, thick, and somewhat comforting veil of darkness, almost like a familiar favorite blanket keeping them all safe. El never used to like the night, not until he’d discovered the wonderful cover it provides. Tonight finds him in the same corridor as always, but this time he veers slightly off his usual course, just enough to make a difference.

El knocks. The door before him is marked as Erik’s with a strange placard of sorts made of snippets of various expensive fabrics and repurposed pieces of jewelry. He can’t help but smile at that. Gold is Erik’s color, and he knows it. The door doesn’t have any windows. Apparently Erik gets the luxury of privacy even in the Icesplitter’s less-than-vast quarters, but considering that it’s his ship, that makes sense.

“Leave me alone,” a voice that could probably be Erik’s yells.

“Come in,” another calls, even more forcefully. Possibly Mia? “Don’t listen to him, he’s an idiot sometimes. All the time.”

Yes, definitely Mia.

Strangely enough, the door is unlocked, so El lets himself inside. It falls shut behind him with a soft and final-sounding click. He glances back, thinking maybe it has locked behind him, but it hasn’t. He can still leave if he wants to, although the chances of that are slim.

“Finally. I was wondering how long you’d take,” Mia huffs, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna go now, alright? El’s perfectly capable.”

El blinks in confusion. “What do you mean you were waiting for me? Was I supposed to do something?”

“No.” Mia offers him a smug grin. “I knew you’d be here, that’s all.” She swings open the connecting door set in the wall, opposite El’s room.  _ His _ doesn't have a door like that. If only he’d chosen Mia’s current room as his own … not that it would help much with his inability to get his message across. “You’d always be here for Erik. I’m not blind.”

And with that sentiment, the door falls shut behind Mia. El hears the chain scraping against the door from her side.

Great. He’s locked in a pirate’s bedroom. The thought is unappealing to him for all the wrong reasons. Four months ago, before Erik left for Sniflheim, this wouldn’t have been a problem at all. Just the opposite, in fact.

The pirate in question sits at his dark polished wooden desk, his boots propped up on the table, ankles crossed. His hands are interlaced at the nape of his neck. He faces towards the wall, so all that remains visible of him is the barest shadow of his figure, outlined in the dim lighting.

Still, El breathes a sigh of relief. He’s okay.

“I just wanted to check on you.” El fidgets with the hem of his sleeve, awaiting a reaction. “You took a hell of a hit, and I don’t want it to get worse. Can I just see it? I’ll heal it if it’s bad again. Mia said I should take care of you, right?”

“No,” he growls, and then he releases a controlled but defeated puff of air. It hisses through the gap between his lips. “If you have to,” he relents.

“You have to turn around,” El says gently, as much a comfort for himself as it is for Erik. He prepares himself to see the strange swirling black mark now inked on Erik’s chest. It’s made a lot more difficult by the knowledge that the wound is his fault, no matter what Erik might say to the contrary.

Erik stands up slowly, so slowly, and swivels to face him.

El audibly gasps.

His eyes glitter with a pale color almost akin to starlight in addition to his sea-blue jewel shimmer, and it’s the most breathtaking thing he’s ever seen.

A scan of the rest of him reveals a slight glowing aura surrounding him, enhancing his already elegant figure, too elegant for his chosen occupation. It’s capped off with a thin ring of the same starlight color, crashing against the waves of his hair, like a crown. A look more deserving of some kind of king - no, of a deity, something worthy of worship.

Erik’s hand tangles in his cerulean hair. He gives a sheepish smile. It’s so bizarre to see such a perfect being with Erik’s nervous habits that El laughs, an exhilarated, breathless sound.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Erik murmurs.

Even his voice is slightly different, a tiny bit deeper, and … something  _ else _ . It’s still him, though, just as his appearance is still his own, only more intense. El already thought he was beautiful, but this … 

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers incredulously.

Erik smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, I know.”

Okay, so maybe he isn’t that different.

“May I- is it okay if I check the spell for you? You never answered.”

The most beautiful creature in Erdrea snorts in just about the most undignified manner possible. “Go ahead,” he replies, guiding one of El’s hands to the front panels of his coat.

It slips off easily, too easily, and Erik lets it fall to the floor, his entrancing eyes reserved entirely for El as his shaking fingers reach for the buttons of his shirt, brushing against skin. El keeps the touches as light as possible, all too aware of the damage he might do. Erik doesn’t even offer a wince as he carefully slips the garment off.

“It looks a little better, but you probably shouldn’t do any more fighting,” scolds El. His hands trace over the thin red lines across his chest, soft green healing magic tumbling from his fingers and sealing the small claw scratches.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, smiling softly in relief as El moves his hand to lay flat against his chest.

“Erik. Stop doing that. You don’t have to apologize for everything. I know you have a lot of responsibility, but you still need to take a priority here. Let me take care of you.”

“Fine. You get one day of being my caring husband. That’s it. Once I don’t need healing you have to stop being so damn nice.”

“Are you finally accepting my marriage proposals?” El disguises the thrill of hope as best he can with a soft smirk and a single raised eyebrow.

“You wish,” he gets out, gritting his teeth as El presses his hand a little more firmly.

“I really do,” El replies, smiling wistfully. Erik cracks a smile to match as he removes his hand, a real smile, one that lights up his starry eyes with amusement. It’s just the slightest trace, but El is proud of himself for it nonetheless. The small victories deserve celebration.

“Damn it. Mia was right. Guess I do need you to take care of me.”

“That’s my job, isn’t it?”

“It wasn’t exactly what I thought you’d be doing, but I don’t mind,” Erik admits. “Might even like it.”

El beams. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He takes a seat next to Erik on the enormous king bed, too large for just Erik, though he shoves that thought down the instant it arises.

Erik turns away for a moment. The shadows hide the ethereal glow of his pale skin. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

El waits for him expectantly.

When he turns back again, his face is dusted with the faintest hint of a blush. Erik glances at him in that way that steals his breath away. It turns out that the effectiveness is dramatically increased with this amount of distance between them.

“I don’t know how to say this, but … I like you. A lot. And you can probably figure out the rest.” He laughs softly, as if he hasn’t just turned El’s world upside down. “Too bad this doesn’t include the ability to articulate my thoughts. I could really use that.”

El barely has time to process what he’s said before Erik cups his face with one hand, the other finding its way to his waist. His lips fall onto El’s, soft and unhurried, a smoldering fire burning its way steadily through any obstacles in its path. The opposite of the flash fire between them earlier, and infinitely better.

It takes only moments for El’s hands to vanish completely, unable to navigate their way out of Erik’s hair. He discovers that the ring of light he’d mistaken for a crown is more similar to a halo, an optical illusion rather than a physical object.

El gasps for air as they separate. In reality, they move the absolute minimum distance apart, so that they’re pressed against each other, barely even enough room for words between them. Erik hasn’t moved his hands, and with every passing second his arm draws El ever closer by his waist. He’d succumb to that and let himself fall into Erik’s arms forever, if only he knew he’d be caught in return.

“Are you an angel?” he breathes softly. One of his fingers draws lazy circles on the rune emblem marked on Erik’s collarbone. Upon closer inspection, it doesn’t look like any language he’s ever seen, more like some kind of tiny artwork.

“I hope not. That would be really fuckin’ annoying.”

El laughs quietly as his head drops onto Erik’s shoulder.

“Mia isn’t coming back, is she?” Erik mumbles into his hair. It sends little vibrations along his scalp, and causes him to shiver. It’s not altogether unpleasant, but Erik notices his reaction and quickly turns his head.

“She did lock the door.”

“Yeah.” Erik falls back onto the bed and stares vacantly at the ceiling.

“Is there a problem with that? My healing magic isn’t strong enough, is it?”

El doesn’t meet his eyes, instead remaining upright. He refuses to turn back for him, even as he can feel Erik silently begging him to stay by his side.

“No, your healing is fine.”

“What is it, then?” El huffs, breaking his own stubborn streak and facing him out of an overload of vexation and guilt, somehow delivered at the same time. The instant he does, Erik’s pleading eyes draw him in, swirling whirlpools of sapphire. Goddess, how he wishes he didn’t have a weakness for those.

“Could you stay with me?” Erik asks hesitantly. His thumb strokes the underside of his cheek gently, like El is something fragile that he might break if he’s not delicate enough.

“Of course,” El says automatically, and he finds that he doesn’t want to take it back.

“I’m not usually like this, it’s only because of the stupid tide cycles,” Erik mutters, less an explanation and more a simple complaint. “At least, that's what Shell says. I didn’t want to tell you, I thought maybe you’d, uh, get put off, and I don’t want you to leave,” he finishes quietly, the words brittle and fragile like a prayer, but more simple, more natural, something not rehearsed or practiced, and somehow that makes it a thousand times more meaningful.

“You don’t have to keep secrets from me.” El draws in a sharp breath. “I’d love you no matter what.”

“I was trying to say that earlier, and you still beat me to it,” Erik mutters. “Damn. Anyway, yeah. I- I love you too. Guess the whole taking-a-spell-for-you thing got the message across.”

_ I love you too _ .

Words El thought he’d never hear that voice say. Words that sound so, so right.

“Jasper said I was stupid to want you back,” El admits. It’s been weighing heavily on his mind, more so than he’d ever want to admit. “And I realized, I am stupid, but you’re worth it.”

El bites his lip. It’s not enough, it’ll never be enough. Jasper had always been right about him before, and he trusted the knight’s opinion. He had even dared to think they might have been close. El told him almost everything, even about where he was going when he went to visit Erik. Clearly that had been a mistake. El hadn’t ever noticed that Jasper never revealed his own secrets, holding his hand close to his chest.

“I can see you overthinking, you know. If that’s stupidity, I’m stupid too.”

Erik falls back again, but this time he manages to drag El with him, both laughing the entire way.

It’s exhilarating.

Neither of them try to sleep for a while, and any efforts are fruitless. The feeling of being loved is even worse than caffeine for El’s sleep schedule. A sacrifice he’s willing to make.

When El wakes up, Erik is practically lying on top of him. His face is buried in El’s chest. El stirs slightly, and Erik rolls off of him instantly, an apology nearly at his lips, but El makes sure that said lips are busy with more crucial tasks by the time the apology draws close to the surface.

***

The instant that El walks into the galley, any plans of gushing endlessly about Erik (perfect Erik,  _ his _ perfect Erik, who’s in  _ love _ with him, hah!) are shattered by Jade’s posture, curled in on herself in the corner, holding her knees close to her chest.

“What’s wrong?” El asks softly, taking a seat on the floor next to her.

“What isn’t wrong?” She looks up at him, and through the blur of royal purple shimmer he can make out determination in her eyes. Oddly enough, she looks threatening, like she’d kill without hesitation. In all honesty she looks like that on a regular basis, but with the glossy coating of tears, the appearance is magnified. “My father wants me dead. My own father ordered for me to be hunted down and killed. Why … ?”

“We don’t know that,” El says hastily, playing damage control, and both of them know it. “He could have just asked for your return to Heliodor, right? He wouldn’t want his daughter to die, he loves you, I know he does.”

“Then who sits on his throne?” Jade whispers, and her tone is quiet, broken, the opposite of what she’s usually like. It makes El want to shake her, try to make her work properly again, because this most certainly isn’t the Jade he knows. “Jasper … he only tried to capture you, but he’d have fought me if given the chance.”

El offers what he hopes is a smile. “He wouldn’t have won against your spears.”

“ _ That’s not the point! _ ” Jade yells. Her voice echoes around the galley, off the walls, and rebounds right back to them, and the second time around El can hear the grief and sorrow in it.

Only then does he realize that she doesn’t have anyone left.

“I won’t let this happen. I’m going to Heliodor. Whoever’s there … he can’t be my father. Carnelian would never do this to me - to you, to Eleanor, to Irwin.” She inhales deeply, considering her words. “He can’t be gone.”

“I don’t think - Jade, have you thought about this? I’m not sure - “ El starts, but the instant that she turns her watery amethyst eyes on him, he’s done for, and resigns himself to the fate that he knows he deserves: death at the hands of Erik’s crew, for following through on one of Jade’s furiously determined ideas. She’s really too persuasive for this, or maybe he’s too soft. Either way, El knows it’s not going to end well.

The first people that Jade finds are Erik and Zoe, which is fortunate, considering that they’re the most likely to listen.

“My father is not a bad person,” she pleads. “If you think he is, that’s alright, but I’m not going to let someone else take Heliodor. I know it isn’t him, it can’t be him … “

At this point El excuses himself to change clothes, and then he takes off for his room without waiting for an answer and cowers in the corner and tries not to cry and doesn’t change clothes.

By the time the sun is sinking down to meet the ever-faithful water line, Jade, without any assistance, has managed to change the course of both fate and the ship, using nothing but her words and her eyes (and, in Erik’s case, possibly her boots).

“Heliodor is on the horizon,” is the only input Zoe offers, although they’re still too far to see anything. “This is probably the worst decision I’ve ever made. I hope you’ve thought this through, for all of our sakes.”

El hasn’t, not at all, but when has he ever?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey at least I fixed their relationship I guess
> 
> so uh I glossed over this but Erik and Mia are ... weird and Shell is their aunt ok. so they're technically half merperson. idk. look they had to get that hair color from _somewhere_ and Michelle seems chill
> 
> next chapter: we break into heliodor castle and absolutely nothing goes wrong! it's gonna be the last chapter of this trainwreck / car crash / pile of hot garbage so yeah!!! thanks for sticking it out with me!!!


	8. One Last Request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you already know what it is
> 
> holy fuck (sentimental)
> 
> ok but seriously thanks a million eris. this has been such a challenge for me??? I'm not usually this kind of writer??? but it has been a ton of fun to try this out. also, please forgive me for taking your wonderful idea and bringing it to life as some sort of mutant fish. sorta like blinky from the simpsons.
> 
> it's probably glaringly obvious already but tallronica is my ideal gf so I sort of went off on a tangent here exploring her character as an antagonist. enjoy

Heliodor City looks different up close, El thinks, as he wanders through the streets of the lower city. He knows that downtown is worse, but still, the houses are small, the streets are crowded. Dundrasil has never been like this. The wilds around the city offer space for expansion, a luxury that Heliodor, with its stupid walls and stupid borders and stupid overpopulation, doesn’t have.

“There’s a set of windows that are never closed, over by the west side of the castle,” Jade says in an undertone as they brush past citizens and visitors alike. She’s disguised again, her hair blonde and less voluminous. El’s own disguise makes him look a little bit odd in his opinion, what with the short crop of blonde, but at least it’s still smooth and silky, not like Erik’s unruly spikes. Besides, there is the added benefit of the extra height from his shoes - with this, he’s even taller than Erik and his platform boots.

“So, what, you’re gonna use a grappling hook or something? I don’t see anything useful around here,” Erik points out, but even as he says it he picks up a stray piece of rope from a pile of pots on someone’s patio.

Jade smirks. “I take it you’ve never tried to sneak into a castle?”

“What?” Mia snaps, but her eyes are wide in disbelief and there isn’t much bite to it. “Are you kidding? Erik and I used to break into Sniflheim Castle constantly. I’m talking every other day. Frysabel always let us have dinner with her and stuff. Anyway, it’s not like you ever needed to break in, princess. They’d throw open the front gates at midnight for  _ you _ .”

“So you’d think,” Jade says. She makes as if to round the corner, and after glancing around rather shiftily, she disappears into a hedge. She motions for the others to follow, so El is the next to vanish through the foliage. Moments later, Erik and Mia follow, and Zoe is last. Eleanor and Rab had decided that it wasn’t worth the risk, but Rab had agreed to lend them disguises from somewhere outside the city limit. Zoe’s wings and tail have been hidden. She has a little bit of trouble walking properly without being able to use them.

“You snuck back into your own castle? What were you  _ doing _ ?” Zoe asks.

“Seeing my secret girlfriend,” Jade answers without a trace of guilt or embarrassment.

“Tell me about her,” Mia demands, grinning wildly. “Do you have a type?”

Jade purses her lips, pretending to survey the wall of the castle in front of them, although her eyes are half-vacant and barely trace the edges of the windows. It’s an excuse. “I don’t know how to answer that,” she says. “Her name was Abigail, and she was bold, I can tell you that much. Really, I don’t know why I did it. I suppose I just wanted to do something that my father didn’t like. Of course, Hendrik found out about two months in … anyways, that isn’t relevant. All you have to do is stay out of sight, and use loose bricks as footholds.”

At the edge of the castle, Jade stops. She walks right up to the wall and swings her leg up to the edge of a window frame, neatly hoisting herself up to the top so that her head almost reaches the bottom of the next window.

“It isn’t difficult.” She shakes her head, seeming disappointed when her hair doesn’t give the usual dramatic midnight-black swish. “The third floor is left unguarded. That’s our goal.”

“Some of us don’t have elastic legs,” Mia mutters, but manages to follow suit up to the second story window, albeit by using a fair few more footholds. El follows after her, and Erik just after, while Zoe stays down, complaining about wanting her wings back, although El’s certain that once she thinks they can’t see she’ll be right behind them.

Above them, Jade disappears into the window, giving a thumbs-up once she’s inside.

By some miracle, El manages to make it through the window unscathed, although he has a considerable amount of help from Jade inside, and absolutely nothing from Mia. (Meanwhile, Erik lands gracefully on his feet, barely making a sound, but El decides he doesn’t care, and then wishes that it were that easy to not care, because he still does.)

“So, uh, where to from here?” Erik asks as he brushes dust off his coat. “Got some fancy way to sneak into the throne room, or are we planning to get captured and kick some royal guard ass?”

“I’d prefer to use the first method, but the second is a possibility,” Jade drawls, one eyebrow elegantly arched.

A shriek echoes from the end of the narrow hallway.

“ _ Serena! _ ” a woman cries. She wears her hair in two neat blonde braids, and an elegant bloodred dress brushes the tops of her knees. “What in the five kingdoms are you doing? I thought you were training the new recruits, or - wait, are these them?” She tilts her head and gives Mia a measuring stare. “Not the usual type for healers, but I suppose they’re alright.”

Her monologue is suddenly cut off by Jade’s spear, pressing her against the wall.

“Yes, we’re alright,” she says softly, looking faintly satisfied, but her expression shifts as a great snake of fire rears up behind her, circling around them, fencing them in.

The girl against the wall smiles. Her eyes light up orange and gold with the reflection of the dancing flames ensnaring them. “If I were you, I’d look a little more closely before making snap judgements,” she says, holding out her left hand, where a little flame-shaped mark glows red. “I’d suggest you let down your disguises now, else I’ll have to call in reinforcements.” She aims a judgemental glance at the apparent lack of weapons on Mia’s figure. “You don’t want to meet them, I’m sure.”

“I believe I’m already acquainted,” Jade says.

“Fuck,” someone mutters from the window, and Zoe barely manages to duck a fireball. She doesn’t reappear. El gets the feeling she’s dropped, and doesn’t blame her.

“Already acquainted, huh,” the girl breathes. “I might know who you are.” Her smile suddenly becomes something bordering on sadistic, something that sends shivers down El’s spine. She isn’t someone he’d want to cross, he thinks, and then he abruptly remembers that he’s doing the textbook definition of crossing her right now. It doesn’t help with the shivers at all.

Jade tilts her head to the side, looking politely curious. “Who am I, then?”

“You don’t want me to spoil the fun, do you?” she asks. “Seeing as how I’m going to be leading you to the throne room for questioning, it would be awfully impolite if I didn’t even get to properly introduce myself first. You’ll cooperate, won’t you?”

Behind her, Mia screws her eyes shut and shakes her head.

“I’m afraid you aren’t the one I’ll take the authority of,” the girl says coldly. “Come on, it’s rare that I’m willing to indulge intruders with a game. Might as well take advantage of it.”

“What’s in it for us, huh?” Erik crosses his arms. “I don’t play games that favor the house.”

“How’s this.” She leans against the wall, matching the casual posture of one who’s confident in their every move. Really, Erik’s right about her. She’s a flashy casino dealer, and here they all are, patrons ready to lose their every token for a single shot at winning. “If I’m wrong about your identities, I’ll let you go, no harm done. I won’t even remove you from the castle.”

Erik’s eyebrows fly into his hair, and Mia covers her closed eyes with her hands.

“We’ll take it,” El says quickly, before anyone else can pass the offer up.

She smiles again. This time it’s a genuine smile, almost amused, and somehow that’s even scarier than her overconfident smirk. El gets the distinct impression that she pities them for taking her offer, like she’s just that certain that she’s going to win.

“I’ll go first then, shall I?” She curtsies, picking up the corners of her red skirt in a surprisingly fluid motion. “Veronica, royal mage master of Heliodor, sister to Serena, advisor in chief of the cleric division of Heliodor’s royal knights.”

“Serena,“ Jade whispers, “is that- “

“Yes,” Veronica mutters under her breath. She scowls at the floor, and her hands clench into fists at her side. “You aren’t my sister, clearly, even if you did so rudely claim her appearance.”

“Your turn,” Mia says sharply. Her eyes are slowly shifting, and El noticed the telltale signs of her bloodthirst kicking in. “No need to bore us with your many talents. Get on to ours, would you?”

“I’ll say.” Instantly, her eyes lift from the floor, filling with spirit again as she aims another deadly smirk in Mia’s direction. “I can’t even see a weapon on you. Tell me, if you’re such a threat, how come you didn’t kill me the instant I showed myself?”

Mia draws in a deep breath, clearly restraining herself. Erik places a warning hand on her shoulder, and she nods, as if to say  _ shut up already, I  _ know _ , dumbass _ .

“You could have escaped practically unscathed, you know, if you’d just realized your potential a little earlier,” Veronica continues. Her body language is oddly casual, but she seems to be distinctly enjoying watching Mia slowly crack against her restraints. As if she relishes the idea of facing off against her. As if she wants nothing better than to have Mia lash out at her. “I know who you are. It wouldn’t have been difficult to do it. Leave me dead on the floor. And yet you didn’t. Why is that, I wonder?”

“Because I’m not a goddamn monster,” Mia screams. Her tones echo through the hallway long after she’s done, a reminder that there’s a line she’ll never cross, a line she’s getting dangerously close to toeing.

“Oh. Isn’t that cute,” Veronica says lightly. “You have morals. You’re going to let your friends die instead of me.”

“I guess it’s too late to follow through now, huh,” Mia growls, starting to struggle against Erik’s grip, to no avail. Her eyes have flooded completely golden, hidden behind her hair, but glowing through the curtain of dull brown, the edges of which are starting to revert to their usual blue color, just the tiniest bit. Erik notices too, apparently, and tugs on a small lock of her hair as a reminder. Her eyes fly wide open. She stops struggling altogether, and for some reason her hair reverts to the disguise, and seconds later her eyes follow.

“Don’t,” Erik mutters. “It’s what she wants. Don’t do it.”

“It isn’t that easy for me- ”

Veronica smirks, too satisfied with everything to be convincingly unaware, and suddenly El becomes painfully aware of the fact that they’re going to lose this, and it’s all his fault that they took the challenge in the first place.

“Easy things are rarely worth it,” Veronica singsongs, examining her nails disinterestedly. “Put up a fight a little longer, would you? It’s so  _ boring _ when intruders aren’t serious. You’re the first real fun I’ve had all month on patrol.”

“Get on with it,” El demands, more confidently than he feels.

“If you insist, Your Highness.”

Not one of them looks surprised. They’d all reached the same conclusion that he had, then. Still, Veronica doesn’t look fazed either, and she casually leans against the wall again before she continues.

“It’s unfitting of you to behave so brashly, don’t you think? Besides, I’d have thought our dear princess could have made a proper entrance,” she says lightly, as if it’s just small talk. “All these theatrics. They have me wondering if you just have a taste for trouble now.”

“I don’t have a  _ taste for trouble _ ,” Jade spits. “I’m loyal to my friends. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Perhaps not, but at least I’m not a fool.” She laughs, sounding awfully reminiscent of Jasper. The sound echoes, bouncing through the thin hallway, and El silently hopes that nobody wandering the corridors can hear her. “The same can’t be said of you. Really, it was unwise of you to choose the same fighting crew that you sent to recover Erik. And the same disguises from the ship … honestly. Are you even  _ trying _ to get away with this properly?”

In the space of not even half a second, Mia’s short blade is at Veronica’s neck, angled exactly to match the right side of the gold pendant around her neck bearing the mark of her allegiance to Heliodor. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Mia, brother of Erik, fourteen years old,” she recites in a low tone, seeming unaffected by the threat. “Originally from Sniflheim. Insufferable temper. Easy to provoke. Suspected elemental. I’d say it’s safe to confirm that last one. I might have to add  _ overbearing _ and  _ completely out of control when it comes to her brother _ to the list as well.”

“You’re stalling,” Mia breathes.

For some odd reason, the smile on her lips is genuine. “I won’t deny it. I’m terrible at lying.”

“You’ve called for backup, haven’t you.” Mia scowls heavily. “Damn coward.”

“Better a coward than someone like you. Caring about your family isn’t an excuse for being murderous.” Veronica scowls to match, although she aims her eyes at the ground. “And don’t you dare say it’s because your parents aren’t around. Why do you think I care about my little sister so much?”

El suddenly feels a surge of pity for Veronica, even though he knows he shouldn’t. It isn’t his fault that he has loving parents who really do care about him. Besides, she would probably hate it if she knew someone she was about to hand over to the so-called reinforcements was feeling guilty about her, wouldn’t she? Judging by what they know of her so far, yes. She doesn’t seem the attention-seeking type. So El resolves not to feel any guilt about it, and thanks to the lengthy thought process he went through making that decision, he has no warning of their arrival.

_ They _ being a full set of no less than eight knights, led by Sir Hendrik, and in the back, a girl who has the same flat blonde hair as Jade’s disguise and Veronica’s braids. She wears a plain black pair of pants and a green top, elements of silver armor on top protecting her chest and her shins. For a cleric, she certainly does look intimidating. El does his best not to think of the lengthy and undoubtedly powerful title Veronica had given her.

Hendrik does a double take upon seeing Jade. He gestures in her direction, and then to the girl in green behind him. “Lady Veronica, what is the meaning of this?”

“Disguised,” she replies simply. “Well enough that I can’t remove it on my own. Serena, if you’d do the honors?”

She nods, eyes firmly set. From somewhere within her outfit (her boots, maybe? Does she even have pockets?) she pulls out an uncomplicated, seemingly plain wand, topped with a strange blue design that looks almost like wings. Oddly enough, their shape doesn’t match the eagle wings of Heliodor marked on her armor; they’re more like Zoe’s wings than those of any bird that El’s seen.

The instant that the wand is withdrawn, however, El feels like he’s been caught in a sudden rainstorm, and feels his disguise slipping away like it’s wet paint.

A quick glance around reveals that nobody’s disguised anymore: Mia’s hair has reverted to blue and messy, Erik’s eyes have shifted back to their usual color (a change El would usually heavily endorse, but perhaps in this situation, not so much), Jade’s distinctive ponytail has reappeared, and Hendrik’s face is caught in the most unprofessional expression El will probably ever see.

Jade huffs a dry laugh and curtsies.

“P-princess- “ he stammers. He looks as if he’s simultaneously fighting the urge to bow so deeply his forehead touches the floor and the urge to strangle her. It results in an awkward fumble of hands that ends up with Hendrik standing there absolutely stock-still while the rest of the knights handle the intruders (two each for Erik, El, and Jade, while Serena leads and Veronica sets the edge of Mia’s hair on fire just for fun, putting it out quickly and reversing all the damage before following the other six knights, dragging the blue-haired girl alongside her).

“Second method it is,” Erik mutters under his breath, low enough that nobody can hear him except for El and maybe the two guards, but he isn’t resisting, so they aren’t listening.

***

If the city of Heliodor was crowded and small, the castle more than makes up for it. The throne room is the size of a full city block, one that would ordinarily be packed with a dozen quaint houses and double-floored apartments with shops underneath, crumbling pots of flowers begging to be broken out front. Instead, the space is filled with sheer nothingness. El wonders if that’s a true statement of wealth; the open space is a blatant  _ fuck you _ to the poorer citizens of Heliodor. It’s shameful. The entry room is even worse, El knows, but they don’t pass through it.

El keeps glancing over to Jade, expecting her appearance to crack, but every time he looks, her eyes are steely and immovable, her posture confident, her steps definitive. She hasn’t done anything to reveal her emotions, and it’s kind of scary. Hendrik sometimes seems like he’s biting back tears, but he never slips more than that.

Carnelian sits atop his throne, looking composed and stoic as ever. There’d usually be a spot next to him reserved for Jade, but there’s nothing there, not even the empty throne to remind the castle of what it’s lacking. Instead, standing by his side is Jasper, silver armor shining with the crest of Heliodor proudly displayed. El feels the room start to spin around him and fights to keep composed.

Behind him, Mia starts to struggle against Veronica’s grip for the first time. The blonde only laughs as Mia tries to tug her wrists free, having the boldness to even offer a wink. “Magical bonds,” she sings quietly in a self-satisfied tone.

“Your Majesty,” Serena says softly, dropping into a bow, and Carnelian nods his head in approval. “Sir Jasper.” The knight’s frown deepens, but it looks almost as though he’s restraining a smile. “These intruders were found on the third floor by my sister, Lady Veronica. Considering the nature of their status in Heliodor, we leave it to you to decide their punishment.”

“Many thanks,” Carnelian says, his voice so cold that the words seem entirely for show; there is no gratitude to be found in  _ this _ throne room. “You have done the right thing.” Serena bows her head and retreats to the back of the group, and El finds himself unceremoniously shoved forward into focus, along with Erik, Mia, and Jade. He sends a silent plea to the Goddess to let Zoe escape unharmed, warn the others, get out safely.

Carnelian turns to face their group, and El tries not to flinch, but instead he turns to Jade.

“Princess Jade, your return overjoys us all, even under such circumstances. If you would agree to return to the service of your kingdom, the consequences for your … companions … would not have to apply to you.”

“Are you suggesting that you’d drop the charges against me? Wouldn’t that leave me in charge of their punishment?”

“That is the general idea.” Carnelian smiles, and it’s even colder than his voice, nothing like what El remembers from board meetings and banquets. “To prove your allegiance, you’d be in charge of their punishment, to do as you see fit.”

A lie. It would be a test, of course, because for some reason royalty is full of those.

“Father,” Jade chokes out. “Everyone. I- I’m truly sorry about this.”

And she whips out her spear, slashing it through the two guards by her side before they have a chance to react. Taking her cue, El does the same with his swords, and to his left he can see Erik’s smirk, cocky as ever even when they’re four against … too many. To be fair, they’re a pretty good four, but Heliodor has a pretty good too many too. Veronica’s still got a hold on Mia, but only just barely, and she’s kicking her way past any guards that try to help.

In a few moments, the guards assigned to them are all down, Veronica having given up on restraining Mia and instead just making use of her fire spells, and those at the edge of the room have fallen to Mia’s boomerangs.

When El catches a glimpse of her, he sees a whirlwind of blue and red, but she’s tinged gold, and her eyes have shifted again so they’re washed of all their original aquamarine color, and she’s barely more than a sparkling blur. The only thing that comes close to what she looks like is Erik’s angel form, and then he remembers that they’re siblings and it hits him with a start that Erik might not be the only one.

Maybe, if they’ve got two angels on their side, they’ve got a chance.

The instant that El thinks this, Carnelian stands up from his throne, his movements faintly odd, and then he collapses to the floor. The word  _ lifeless _ comes to mind, but El doesn’t let himself think about that possibility, for Jade’s sake.

More important is the fact that whatever stands is no longer Carnelian, nor is it a person; maybe it once was, but they are so far gone from whatever they once were that they are nothing more than a mass of gray-blue cloaked in purple, so pathetic that they put the color of royalty to shame. Somehow, despite the sharp smile that plainly says  _ I have the upper hand _ , El feels sorry for them, even as they declare power and laugh a low, rumbling laugh that carries through the cavernous room as if it were meant for the task.

It doesn’t completely hit him through the speech, but as the room falls silent again, El remembers that this is sort of Jade’s father, in some twisted way.

A cautionary look thrown her way has him recalling that she was the one who suggested this, that she had  _ wanted _ to do this, and the way her spear cuts through the dust in the air again with virtually no hesitation shows it, and as always El is rushing in beside her, and the angel siblings follow.

The knights of the room have been completely abandoned, but most of them are so dumbstruck by their king that they’ve stopped being a threat entirely. Even Jasper’s out of it - but he isn’t looking at the king, no, his eyes have snapped onto Mia. His gold eyes. The exact same shade as hers. El wonders what it could mean, but he doesn’t have much time to ponder it, seeing as how the evil being (Mordegon, they call themselves, though El thinks that’s kind of lame) isn’t exactly a piece of cake.

Their four aren’t anything to scoff at either, though.

Between Jade’s elemental spear attacks, Erik’s knifework and dodging talent, El’s twin swords, and Mia’s oddly lethal boomerang throws, they’re about as powerful as it gets. The only problem with their strategy is that the enemy hits back.

At first this is fine, but even Erik can only avoid attacks for so long, and El is the only one who can heal - not that he’s bad at it, but still, he’s got to attack and stuff - and somehow they find themselves backed into a corner, with Mia an inch from dead and bleeding all over the floor. El wasted his time on an offensive move and he can’t heal and oh  _ shit is she going to die this is bad there has to be a way out of this but what can he do at this point _ -

A bolt of darkness is shot right for Mia’s head, and she doesn’t have the time or energy to move out of the way, instead just bracing herself. It’s a vain hope, and she knows it. The gold slips in her eyes, and for the briefest moment they’re blue again. They’re prettier that way, El thinks, and then he shuts his eyes tight so he won’t see it.

The sound of the impact never comes, and by some miracle Mia gets up practically unharmed.

As it turns out, ‘some miracle’ has moved to stand by their side, and her name is Serena. While her wand glows with the soft green of healing magic, Hendrik holds back all the attacks coming their way and even manages to counter some.

But strangest of all, shielding Mia is none other than Veronica, her stance braced and her staff directing her fire serpent once again, but this time the dragon doesn’t head towards them.

With one last wave of attacks, the dark being falls, wordlessly glaring them all down, but El thinks he can see gratitude in their gaze, and he wonders if Mordegon was truly evil, or just wanted to die.

“Before you ask,” Veronica grumbles, refusing to look any of them in the eye, “it was only because I have a higher magic resistance than any of you. I can take spells. You lot can’t. And I didn’t want to let my sister’s noble efforts go to waste because of your idiocy. That’s all.”

“I- I’m ever so sorry. I’ll attend to His Majesty,” says Serena in a rush, running back to the collapsed king at his throne with the slightest hint of an embarrassed flush on her face.

Veronica snorts. “Don’t feel guilty, idiot,” she yells back. “They broke in, it’s fine.”

“I shall join Lady Serena in reviving His Majesty,” Hendrik mutters, and then bolts like there’s an angry sabrecat biting at his heels, even though the closest thing is Jade and she’s nowhere near biting mode.

“Hey, I have a spell to revive people, you know,” Erik calls in their direction.

“Believe me, I’ve tried,” says Veronica in an undertone. “They’re awkward, but so talented that we’ve all accepted it.” She casts a fond glance toward the two knights bending silently over their fallen king, something almost like pride in her eyes. “I’d suggest that you don’t interrupt their intricate rituals. It’s for your own good.”

***

Jade stays behind with her father, even though she has nothing to offer in the way of healing, but even though Mia and Jade and Serena and Veronica and Hendrik look perfectly comfortable in the castle, it’s plain (to El, at least) that Erik could not be more out of his element. So when Mia and Zoe run / fly back to the castle with Eleanor and Rab in tow, El holds him back by his arm, and they opt to explore the city instead.

Even in the upper class district, he seems off; there’s something about Erik that screams classy, but it’s red-wine-and-ballroom-dancing kind of classy, not … whatever snooty classist shit is going on here.

“You alright?” El asks softly, reaching out a hand to Erik as he stumbles over one of the stairs leading down to the lower plaza. He takes it to steady himself, but he doesn’t let go. “It’s not like you to mess up your footwork.”

“I’m fine.” At El’s skeptical glare, he sighs heavily. “Seriously, just tripped. What, am I not allowed to trip anymore?”

“If I don’t, you can’t,” El replies solemnly. “You’re more composed than I am, that’s just a fact. If you’re stumbling and I’m not, something’s wrong.”

Erik shoves him playfully, but his foot is halfway down the last step and he’s knocked off-balance so dramatically that he lands with his hands braced against the edge of the fountain, barely holding himself upright on it. His left fingertips brush the surface of the water. It’s cold - colder than it should be, considering the weather.

“Hey! Not fair!”

Erik only smirks. “You stumbled,” he says. “So nothing’s wrong with me.”

El gives an overdramatic pout. “Stupid- “ he starts, but he’s not destined to finish, because of course Erik has to pick that very convenient moment to kiss him. A shut-up kiss. El decides that he kind of likes them, as far as silencing methods go.

“Still stupid,” he mutters as Erik sits down next to him on the edge of the fountain, though it has no real strength or irritation behind it.

In response, Erik pulls a small jewelry box from the pocket of his coat, and El’s heart momentarily stops.

Inside is a pair of stud earrings, little diamonds framed in silver, the same shade of silver as his charm bracelet.

“They’re beautiful,” he breathes, and it’s true.

Erik’s hand goes to his hair again, running through it aimlessly, as it’s still brushed out as untangled as it will ever get from earlier that morning. “Yeah. Uh, I know rings are kind of traditional and all, but I think they’re annoying. Besides, there’s nothing traditional about you and me. I thought, since the crew all have them, and mine are diamonds but with gold, that … I don’t know, I just … “

El glances up at him, already removing his current pair of earrings (aquamarines he’d bought from a Dundrasilian merchant in an act of rebellion when Eleanor had commented that earrings didn’t suit him). “You just what?” he asks innocently.

“Guess if we lived through that, my luck’s probably great right now,” Erik says. He holds out the little earring box like it were a crown on a tasseled pillow being presented to a newly minted monarch. Somewhere in the background, some children yell at each other, a dog barks and a little girl laughs, a pair of shop owners shout across the street, but that’s all distant in El’s mind.

“Will you marry me?”

El can’t help but laugh as he replies, “Did you even have to ask?”

In the middle of Heliodor City on the day the war is stopped and Carnelian comes to his senses, the crown prince of Dundrasil can be found absolutely soaked in the city plaza’s grandest fountain, wearing a pair of round-cut diamond earrings that match those of the (likewise soaked) laughing pirate next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes I'm a sap  
> no I will not apologize
> 
> ANYWAY! this is probably going to be my last long dqxi fic for a while!! expect one more dqxi fic soon from me (better, hopefully) but after that I'm gonna become more of a multifandom writer
> 
> please leave me a comment / kudos if you got this far because this has been such a journey for me and it would mean so much. also because I really want to justify the amount of time I spent writing and the amount of time I spent not studying for finals!


End file.
